


She Drives Me Crazy

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016), The Joker - Fandom
Genre: 52-Joker, Arkham Asylum, F/M, Harley and Ivy are just friends, Joker cutting off his face, No abuse, Only using the 52 aesthetic, Revenge, Sex, Violence, a story of going to extremes for love, crazies in love, crazy desperation, mad love, murderous clown, no deadshot, no sticking skinned faces on people, trying to win Harley back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2018-12-17 07:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Joker and Harley have a disagreement and causes Harley to leave him. Now he is desperate to get her back.The focus of this story  will be more about Joker wanting to prove his love for Harley in the most extreme way he can think of...and Harley saving him from himself.





	1. Sucker for the Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damonicus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damonicus/gifts).



> I was given a really difficult prompt: What if Joker cuts his face off to prove to Harley how much he loves her.  
> It will be a challenge but I decided to go for it!

Harley had been crying from the moment she stumbled into Ivy's hideout late that night. Harley looked terrible: her pale white skin looked splotchy, her makeup had run down her face leaving black trails down her cheeks, the blue of her eyes stood out harshly against her pale skin surrounded by red where they had become bloodshot, and her lipstick was smeared across her chin. (Ivy wasn't sure if Harley had done it or Joker because Ivy also saw that Harley's knuckles were bloody and scraped from hitting someone or something.) Right now Harley was vigorously wiping the palms of her hands across her eyes, smearing her make-up further across her cheeks. 

“Ugh, I can't stop crying, it's so stupid!!” Harley sniffled. Ivy frowned as she looked her friend over. She had a bag with her, a bright red gym bag with Hello Kitty on it that was stuffed to the point that Harley couldn't pull the zipper closed, her clothing inside the bag almost spilling out. Harley was dressed in a pair of red sparkle booty shorts, a ripped white t-shirt with “Daddy's Little Monster” scrawled across the breasts, her white hair was down and sticking to her face since it was raining outside making her looked like a drowned rat. 

Ivy walked over to where she had a bunsen burner lit on a table nearly packed to overflowing with orchids. The fire was burning under a tea kettle that hung suspended over the flame. Ivy reached for the kettle, judging by the trail of steam floating into the air, that the water inside was hot enough and poured the water over the pepperment leaves nestled in the bottom of a couple of chipped tea cups. She let the tea seep for a few seconds, then added a pinch of honey to sweeten the mixture before she pressed the hot liquid into Harley's hands, wrapping her hands around Harley's and squeezing softly. 

“Drink this and just relax. Then you can tell me what happened.” Ivy reached up and brushed Harley's hair behind her ears and patted her cheek. “You can tell me anything, all right?” 

Harley nodded bringing the tea up to her lips once Ivy released her hands. She sipped at the tea slowly letting the taste linger on her tongue. It was still a little too hot, only this side of scalding, but the peppermint and honey tasted good on her tongue. Harley had come to Ivy's home after she had yelled at Joker, going so far as to hit him across the cheek when he tried to grab her, telling him she never wanted to see him again. She had puntcuated her statement again by slugging him across the face. Joker had grabbed her and tackled her to the floor with a snarl, but Harley had kicked him in the gut with her knee. Now that she was separated from the situation she realized that while Joker had been trying to stop her, he hadn't actually been out to hurt her; not that he ever hurt her, but while she had been acting like a wildcat, Joker had simply been trying to stop her. They had fought before, mostly just yelling at each other. Joker had never hurt her, (he had thrown cream pies at her once when they were fighting, which had turned out to be funny and whatever they had been fighting about had been forgotten. Instead they ended up making love covered in cream pie remains.) Now that she thought about it, he had only been trying to restrain her this time while she was the one trying to hurt him. But she had managed to break his hold on her and kicked him in the knee once before she stormed out. Now, she felt pretty guilty. 

But damn it! His behavior lately toward her had been the last straw for Harley. They were more than lovers, they had always been something deeper than that, something...more. And the fact that he was cutting her out of part of his life had hurt Harley deeply. 

And so Harley had grabbed her bag and headed out to Ivy's place. She hoped her best friend could help her figure this out... 

Ivy's place was an abandoned glass greenhouse. She had found it and revivalized it, bringing the plants and flowers back until the place was unrecognizable. Ivy had grown the plants around it in a way that it hid the place from the casual observer and while Batman might know where she was, Ivy had been keeping her head down so that the Bat had no reason to mess with her...at least for now. 

“All right Harley, tell me what happened. What did he do that was so bad you came running here?” Ivy sat down in a chair that seemed to form from her plants at the moment she sat back. She crossed her legs wrapping her hands around her knee giving Harley her full attention. “I know that clown loves you. I just can't see him doing anything that would cause you to get this upset.” Ivy reached over picking up her own cup of tea and blew the steam away. 

Harley sipped her tea then sniffled. “Okay, this was the third time he planned a big heist without me! I mean the first time I forgave him because he said he didn't think it would be fun for me. I thought, 'Oh how sweet! He doesn't want me to be bored!' The second time he didn't include me, I got really angry! I told him...” 

Here Harley emphasized her statement by wagging her finger. “I told him, 'we're partners clown! You can't keep me out of our capers!' I mean Ivy, how could he forget that??! I mean, we do everything together! Why would he plan something without including me?! But the third time? Now that is when I got pissed!” Harley sloshed her drink around in her anger. 

“He planned this stupid thing he was doing with Penguin! PENGUIN!! He hates that bird—that was when I knew he was doing it on purpose!! He doesn't love me anymore, Ivy! He hasn't been including me in any of his plans, none of his jobs...he's been committing crime without me!! And on top of it all, he has been acting weird.” 

Harley sipped her tea, sniffling while Ivy made a face. “Acting weird? How can you tell?” 

Harley gave Ivy a dirty look. “He's been...weird. I don't know...” 

Harley set her mug down, rotated it slowly. 

"He's not including me in any plans, not wanting me to leave the hideout! He took my mallet away and hid it! He set the babies on me...” 

“WHAT?” Ivy stood in sudden anger, but Harley motioned her down. “I mean, he made them guard me. The babies wouldn't let me leave the bedroom!” 

Ivy frowned in confusion and settled back in her chair. She didn't like Joker much, he was just too crazy for her, too erratic, you never knew if he was going to kill everyone or simply try to make them laugh until he became bored and let his victims go. There was no consistency to the man's actions. Harley insisted he was a genius...and sometimes it seemed that way, while at other times everything about him seemed crazy and random. Ivy just worried about her best friend being around that maniac clown all the time, and he was always putting Harley in danger with his schemes, but...if she was honest with herself, it was clear to her that while Harley was hopelessly devoted to that homicidal clown, he was equally devoted to Harley and just as hopelessly in love with her as she was with him. 

While Ivy listened to Harley she thought to herself that this situation sounded more like Joker was being overly protective more than just not wanting Harley around. She didn't think the clown would cut her out of such an important aspect of his life as the crimes he liked to commit...there was something else going on that Harley wasn't seeing. Of course, with the Joker, just about anything was possible—trying to analyze his actions might be pointless. They needed to know more, Ivy realized. 

Ivy frowned in thought then, remembering that two months ago Harley had been hurt, wounded and poisioned so badly they had almost lost her by that bitch Copperhead. It had been bad, very bad. Bad enough that Joker had called Ivy begging for her help. Joker never begged for anything. Usually when he wanted something he showed up with a gun, or some other weapon and his charm dialed to high either taking or manipulating whoever it was into giving him exactly what he wanted. But not that time. When Joker had called Ivy pleading, he had been desperate, almost incoherent with panic. 

It had been the strangest thing she had ever noticed in the clown's behavior. Ivy had almost refused to help thinking it was some sort of trick. (There were a handful of instannces in which Ivy was sure Joker had been trying to kill her...but she couldn't prove it to Harley and who knows, maybe she was wrong? The way that clown worked, trying to kill her could be an expression of admiration.) But the worst part was when Joker showed up in person when Ivy had hung up on him. He had dropped to his knees, begging for her help and the most disturbing part of the situation was that he had CRIED! That had weirded Ivy out enough that she had gone with him. When they arrived at Joker's hideout (at the time they were hiding in an abandoned magic shop...creepy Ivy had thought) Harley had indeed been close to dying. The skin near the wound, a deep cut with a blade that had sliced into Harley's side, had turned black with veins of of black inkiness running under Harley's skin. Ivy shivered at the memory of how Harley had looked. When she arrived it was clear from all the medical supplies (and the couple of dead doctors Joker had propped in the corner) he had tried everything, but Harley was failing quickly, her skin hot to the touch, her eyes dilated and not reacting to light...it had been terrifying. 

It had taken Ivy weeks to nurse Harley back to health. Joker had even allowed her to stay in their hideout during that time, rushing out whenever Ivy needed anything for Harley. He still made off color jokes, but would sit by Harley's bedside while she was unconscious and tell Harley absolutely terrible jokes, or he would read stories to her from chilldren's books he had stolen...he brought Harley teddy bears, balloons, flowers, everything that Harley would love. It had been sweet, Ivy admitted. But after Harley turned a corner and began getting better, he had started falling back into the Joker Ivy was most familiar with, and when he was sure Harley was going to live, he had rushed Ivy out by setting a container of weed killer where she could see it and muttering about his weed problem. 

After Harley was on the mend, Ivy had thought Joker had seemed...well, like he was fine...for him that he had returned to going back to his typical, maniacal self. He had laughed the whole thing off once Harley was awake, though Ivy did have to say it was strange that he let her stay at their hideout for the two weeks it took to get Harley back on her feet. Then again everything that clown did seemed weird to Ivy. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she was pretty sure that Joker, in his own way, was trying to protect Harley after coming so close to losing her. She gave an imperceptible shake of her head—plants were so much easier to deal with than humans. 

“Well, honey you can stay here with me for as long as you want okay?” Ivy leaned over and squeezed Harley's knee. “I have plenty of room.” 

Harley sniffled. “Thanks Red. I won't be getting in the way between you and your guy will I?” 

Ivy waved her hand at Harley in dismissal. “No, he is gone for the next few weeks, but regardless you're fine honey.” 

Harley put her cup down and rushed over wrapping her arms around Ivy. “Thank you Red, you're the best friend a girl could ask for!” 

Ivy smiled and hugged Harley back tightly. She was going to have to go talk to Joker and find out what exactly was going on between them. 

* 

Across town, music was playing from Harley's phone that she had left on the bed. Joker was lying on the bed next to it. He reached over, picked up the phone, his eyes looking haunted as he scrolled through it, staring at the pictures she had on her phone of the two of them. He had switched over to the music, different songs playing for brief minutes until he stopped on one and threw the phone back on the bed while lying on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He was dressed in a pair of his slacks, no shirt, just suspenders and his socks, a pair of yellow socks with green polkadots. His green hair was a mess, sticking up in curls all over his head, his arms spread out at his sides as he stared at the ceiling. 

Over by the entrance to the bedroom, Frost frowned. He recognized the song Joker had stopped on, letting the music play...he had heard Miss Quinn play it before, Lacuna Coil's 'Give Me Something More.' 

After a moment or two more of lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling, Joker jumped up startling Frost enough that he almost went for his weapon. Instead, Joker started pacing back and forth, muttering to himself. He was quiet, the muttering barely audible to Frost, but as Joker continued, he began gesturing wildly, snarling, hissing, and responding to his own questions as if he were talking to two people. He looked like a raving lunatic, which Frost guessed he was... 

Frost watched him nervously, staying close to the door, just in case he had to make a quick getaway, his fingers itching to be on his weapon—not that he thought Joker would hurt him intentionally, but in his current state, Frost wasn't willing to bet his life on that notion. When the Boss was like this, it was good to be able to leave quickly or the chances were high that you would end up dead and Frost was doubtful that he would be able to take Joker out. He knew what his boss was capable of, hell he had seen what his boss could do firsthand! Joker was inhumanly fast and deadly. If the boss snapped completely, Frost's only avaliable option was to run and hope he made it out alive. He knew Joker could kill him which only proved to him how much Joker valued him that he was still alive. Just like Quinn. Joker loved her beyond all reason, which was why Quinn was alive too. Joker didn't value other people, but if he valued you, you knew it. 

As he watched his boss, Frost had to admit he was worried about Joker's current state. The pale man was barely stable at the best of times, but right now...it was like playing with a loaded gun with a cocked hammer. Frost had never, ever seen him like this, so...manic. Frost would never admit it out loud, but he was terrified. 

It had been twenty-four hours since Harley left and she still wasn't back. That right there scared Frost. When they fought in the past, which was usually just a yelling match until one of them caved (usually Joker), Harley would usually only go into the next room and smash things with her hammer until Joker made up with her (which was never a 'I'm sorry.' It was usually a bad joke, or something silly to make her laugh and then everything would go back to normal.) They would make up and spend a week at least in bed. Frost shook his head, when they were making up, it was best for him to be as far a way as he could. They were loud and violent...a solid week of sexcapades would usually end with Joker wanting to pull some crazy huge job to get something weird and obscure for Harley. 

But this time...well, Frost was worried. Joker wasn't taking her disappearence well at all. He was definitely acting crazier than usual. The pacing and the talking to himself had escalated over the last twenty-four hours. The manic behavior had increased ten-fold in just the last few minutes! 

Joker started pulling on his hair as he spoke to himself. “Why isn't she here? Doesn't she understand? This was all for her, for her, no one can hurt her, no one! I won't allow it!! It's too dangerous! She needs to be safe...safe!!! Locked away, no one can hurt her again! SAFE!!! Doesn't she understand?? Where is she??!! Why hasn't she come back?? I'm going to kill everyone in GOTHAM IF SHE DOESNT COME BACK!!!” he screamed at the ceiling, as if crying out to any deities (or flying heroes) above. 

Joker slammed both fists into the wall. The impact created craters in the plaster and sent cracks racing up the wall stopping only when they hit the ceiling. 

Frost jumped a foot when Joker hit the wall and his eyes widened in horror as Joker hit the wall over and over and over again, his fists becoming bloody, but he didn't stop; he just kept hitting the wall over and over until he was leaving bloody fist marks. Frost didn't know what to do...should he stop him? Or just stay out of the way...self-preservation told him to stay exactly where he was... 

Joker stopped and turned, dropped his hands to his sides, blood running down his long fingers to drip onto the floor. His voice was strangely calm, his eyes focused on the blood dripping on the floor. 

“I know what I need to do...I need to prove to her I love her.” Joker's voice was barely a whisper, more a simple exhalation of breath. 

Joker looked up and stared straight at Frost. “Frost, where is the Dollmaker?” 

Frost was thrown by the question. He sifted through the information in his mind. One of his jobs was to help keep tabs on rivals or villains who Joker would make temporary alliagnces with or go after, though Dollmaker wasn't on any of those lists. “Ah, let me go look him up Boss,” Frost said timidly. 

Joker stared at Frost, his eyes had this strange dead look to them, then he nodded. “Fine, fine, just find him sweetheart. I want him here soon.” 

Frost nodded. “It might take me a few days Boss.” 

Joker stared at him, tilting his head as if confused by Frost's words, then he hissed low and menacing like a cobra. “Get him here.” 

Frost nodded. “Right away boss.” 

* 

Frost hurried out of the hideout. “Okay, that's scarier than him acting crazy,” Frost muttered to himself. When Joker was calm, cold and without humor or any feelings whatsoever, it was far scarier than any of his other moods. When Joker was like that it was not just dangerous...it was terrifying. These moods had happened in the past before Miss Quinn came into their lives. Frost remembered it happening a few times, usually when he was upset with Batman for something...usually not showing up when Joker expected him to or when he was just in a really bad mood, a prank didn't go as planned, or he knew he was going to forced to deal with someone he hated with a passion, like Penguin or Riddler. But this mood was worse than any he had ever seen. Frost shuddered and headed to his car. He better get started on finding this Dollmaker. Frost knew a little about the man they called the Dollmaker. He wore a mask made from the skin of his father and he was an expert surgeon, making 'dolls' out of human skin and peoples' limbs. Frost shuddered. He had neither seen the man nor the work he did, he had only heard about him. It distrubed him that Joker wanted Dollmaker...but Frost would find him for the Boss. 

That's what he did, whatever Joker needed him to do, even when he wasn't sure it was the best thing for him to be doing. 

Frost headed outside to where his car sat, a black Chevrolet SS that Joker had stolen for him. He had said it was because he would not be seen in the old junker that Frost had before, even though he had thrown the keys at Frost on the day it had happened to be Frost's birthday. Frost never mentioned it and Joker never mentioned it, but that was all right by Frost; he knew and that was all that was important. 

As Frost settled in behind the wheel he ran over in his head what he needed to do, the first place he would hit would be his friend Harriet. She ran with the Wonderland gang, but she had a good handle on where most of the villians that ran around Gotham were at any given time. Hopefully she would have a lead on where to find Dollmaker and the safest way to approach the man. It never paid to just go right up to any of these villians—it was a sure way to have yourself put on their 'next victim' list. 

Frost started the car and headed out, pulling his phone out and calling up Harriet hoping she was still awake. 

* 

Joker watched Frost go from a window in his bedroom. His mind was racing, crazed, his thoughts disoriented as they danced around in his head mixing with the voices that whispered things to him. He was accustomed to the voices, though with Harley around he usually was able to think more clearly. Now though, the voices came rushing back louder than ever before, speaking to him, hissing at him, whispering at him what he needed to do. 

“Find her, find her, find her...” one voice spoke above the others. Joker turned and suddenly slammed his head against the wall. He giggled while blood ran down his forehead and started to drip from his nose running down his lips. That was better! He giggled again. 

He needed to focus on something else...yes...something else...something more he could do to get Harley back!! Something else to prove his love!! He knew exactly what he would do while he waited. Copperhead...he had to demonstrate to Harley that he needed her, needed her like air, like water, like LAUGHTER!! He NEEDED her...he...he...Joker shook his head. He knew the word, the word he never uttered that Harley needed to hear...love...he...would do anything for her...ANYTHING!!...he...he...he LOVED her...no no!!! Joker grabbed his head with both hands and shook it, his fingers digging into his scalp painfully, no no no, he thought, it was more than that! Love was a stupid foolish word that barely encompassed what he felt for her. He would die for her!! He wanted to die for her!! She was EVERYTHING! Everything!!! Everything he needed, she was his air, his blood, his heart, his laugh...there was nothing without Harley. Joker dropped to his knees, muttering, snarling to himself his eyes wild, his hands on either side of his head as if he were desperately trying to keep the thoughts inside, keep them from overflowing, drowning him. 

He was only trying to protect her...after almost losing her...almost...No. He would prove to her that she was everything. First, by killing the one who almost took her from him...Copperhead. Joker smiled slowly, the crazed expression making his smile deadlier. He would make her pay...slowly and painfully for everything she had done to Harley, for what she tried to do to her. Joker cackled. It would be fun and it would show Harley...step one in bringing her back! 

But he had to prove his love more than that...more than torturing Copperhead, that was what this was! He had to show Harley how he felt!! That she was everthing...his soul belonged to her... 

Joker eased the grip he had on his head and slowly lowered his hands. He looked down at his hands seeing the tiny drops of blood embedded in his fingernails. He smiled even wider, the grin looking more painful than comedic. He would rip himself apart for her...that would show her...that would prove it. Joker giggled and whispered to himself. “I love to the point of madness...I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you, I love you Harley...come back...” 

He stood slowly then, narrowing his eyes. 

Dollmaker would be a help in creating part of his gift to Harley or Joker would gut him. Dollmaker would create Joker's expression of his love to Harley. Dollmaker would help that happen, but he needed to start with who hurt her while he waited for Frost to find the Dollmaker. Joker would find the person who started the cycle that ended with Harley leaving him. Joker giggled again. First he would begin to show her by hunting and killing Copperhead. 

Joker sighed happily and started to sing to himself, giggling softly every so often as he waltzed over to the closet where Harley kept their clothes. 

* 

“I can't stop the way I feel 

Things you do don't seem real 

Tell me what you've got in mind 

'Cause we're running out of time 

Won't you ever set me free? 

This waiting 'round's killing me ...” 

* 

Joker hurried over to his closet, now it seemed strange to him like a foreign place...everything here seemed foreign and strange without Harley's touches, her stuffed animals on the bed, her bras hanging off of anything and everything, the way the room smellled like her, and the bed sheets carried her scent. Her mallet in a corner, guns laying on their bedside tables and next to his walking cane...Joker stopped for a moment as he found an old scarf of hers. He picked it up, held the cloth to his nose and inhaled deeply. He smiled. “She drives me crazy,” he whispered with a laugh, wrapping the red and black scarf around his neck as he waltzed to the closet. He pulled out a crisp grey dress shirt, black slacks and a black jacket with a black tie. He dressed to go out hunting. He slipped on a pair of shining black-on-black oxfords and walked over to a drawer, whispering to himself. “Can't forget the final touches!” 

He pulled out a fake white carnation and a pair of black gloves that he slid slowly onto his fingers giggling softly. “There now. All better.” 

Joker hummed to himself as he dropped down to his knees to pull out a case, a long thin metal case with flip latches on the side. He flipped the latches back and opened the case. Inside lay an ornate handled straightrazor and next to it an ornately decorated converted Glock 17. Joker smiled picking up the weapon. 

“Let's go play shall we?”


	2. Psycho Killer

The next night Harley was in Ivy's rose green house garden. Calling it a garden in the traditional sense of the term was not really accurate, for it was more of a place where the roses, and plant-life in general, ran wild. Ivy had lights installed and every other one was currently lit. Harley was sitting on the remains of a old bench with ear buds plugged into her phone where she had The Chainsmoker's song “Don't Let Me Down” playing so loudly that she couldn't hear anything else. She smiled happily while she bobbed her head to the music and enjoyed the smell of the roses surrounding her. At the moment, she could let her anger and worry over Joker fade to the background. 

She wore a pair of booty shorts, her legs up on the bench and the heels of her combat boots were hooked around the wood so that her toes dangled off into space, tapping in air to the song. She had on a pair of thigh-high pink socks, but she had bunched them down to around mid-calf. Harley had a pad and pen with her; she was supposed to be making a list of pro and cons about her relationship with Joker, at Ivy's suggestion. It was a very 'doctor of psychology' thing of Ivy to ask of her, but Harley knew she was just trying to help Harley put her relationship with Joker into perspective. It was funny she thought how the one person she thought who would be telling her to say good riddance to the clown was the one person making her examine her relationship. It was as if Ivy knew something she wasn't telling her, something she wanted Harley to figure out for herself. It might have even been, Harley realized curiously, as if Ivy wanted her not to throw her relationship with Joker away. 

Harley frowned and doodled on the pad, writing “puddin” or drawing little smiley faces. She stopped, examined the pad, then smiled a little, her eyes wandering over the two lists that were written on the paper. Ivy was right—there were more pros than cons. She tapped her pen against the paper feeling stupid. Maybe she had overreacted? She sighed. She knew she probably had, but damn it. She and her puddin were partners and he hadn't been treating her like his partner. It had made her feel more like she was in the way than part of his life. Harley tossed the pad and pen aside and pulled out what she had swiped from Ivy's lab instead. 

Ivy had some India ink (okay well she wasn't sure if it was actually India ink or not, but it was in an ink bottle) and there was some of that weird papyrus paper than Ivy made herself that had been laying about... 

So Harley had taken a vial. Harley dug around in the pocket of her shorts and pulled out a thin stick pin (she knew there was a reason she had the pin, but she couldn't remember why...) Harley rolled herself around and put her feet flat on the ground, then opened the jar of ink. She held the pin firmly and dipped it into the ink. She then took it and with a quick stab, she plunged the pin into her thigh. She didn't know what she was planning, but she focused all her attention on the tattoo she had started. 

* 

Ivy was cooing to some of her plants while she worked on dinner...or was it lunch? Harley kept night hours, like many of the criminals of Gotham did (Ivy included) though she tried to divide her time with the daylight in order to care for her plants. 

Ivy hummed softly while she made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Harley and for herself, some tofu and pickled vegetables. She hoped that Harley's little assignment would help her see that she had a solid relationship with that nut job Joker. Ivy shook her head again for nearly the hundredth time. She could not believe she was helping Harley see that her crazy relationship was right for her and that Joker was only doing his best to protect her in the only way he knew how. Whatever was the world coming to? Ivy put the finishing touches on the two lunches and set out to find Harley in the rose garden. Maybe she could talk to her a little about going home. Ivy had a feeling that without Harley, Joker would become more violent and reckless than he already was...Ivy shivered as a cold trickle of foreboding inched its way under her skin. 

* 

When Ivy arrived in the garden, she found Harley on the remains of a bench. Was she tattooing herself? Ivy asked herself. As she came closer she saw that Harley had a bottle of her ink. Ivy's eye twitched. So many of the things she made were poisonous to humans. Harley was just damn lucky the bottle she currently had was nothing but a new ink Ivy had accidentally made instead of the poison she had been going for at the time. As much as she loved her friend, Harley needed to go back home and soon. She walked over carrying the tray with their lunches on it and sat down next to Harley. 

She frowned. “Harley!! What are you doing?!” Ivy snatched the pin away from her friend. Harley had started to tattoo “puddin” on her thigh, only managing to get the “p” and “u” complete. 

Harley stuck her bottom lip out. “Red!!” 

“Harley, if you miss him that much, go home,” Ivy growled putting the bottle on the ground. 

“I can't go home. He has to come to me.” Harley crossed her arms over her chest, sticking her bottom lip out. 

Ivy sighed. “I swear,” the red headed woman said with a slight shake of her head. “Why does he have to come to you?” 

“Because! He...he's the one that should apologize.” Harley frowned as if she wasn't quite sure of her reasoning either but she was going to stick to it. 

Both women were quiet for a moment when Harley muttered. “You know, I think I need a change.” 

Ivy resisted the urge to groan out loud. Instead, she prompted, “A change?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking about dying my hair...maybe half red and half black? Or half red and half BLUE!” Harley clapped her hands. 

Ivy reached out suddenly and pressed a finger to Harley's lips. “No,” she said in a firm tone. 

Harley pouted. “Why not?” 

“Because that would be ridiculous. If you want to add some color sweetie, just do your tips and pick some fun colors! Like...I don't know...pink and blue. That would look lovely with your blonde hair.” Ivy smiled. 

Harley frowned. “But I want...” 

Ivy pressed her finger back to Harley's lips with a stern look in her green eyes. “No,” she said again. “I love you Harley, like a sister. And as your sister I'm telling you, no.” 

Harley sighed. “Fine, blue and pink tips. Spoil sport.” 

Ivy chuckled. “That's what big sisters are for sweetie.” 

* 

Joker smiled standing on the side of the street, his hands in the pockets of his slacks waiting for the right car to come by. He had only been out here for a little while. With Frost gone, Joker didn't have a car available so here he was on the street, waiting for just the right vehicle to wander by. It was actually a little relaxing, the waiting. Gave him time to empty his mind a bit. 

Joker gazed up at the moon. “Ah a full moon,” he thought. Then he whispered out loud. “Tell me the story.. About how the sun loved the moon so much. That she died every night...just to let him breathe...” Then he giggled. 

The moon's light shone down, mixing with the street light. Joker was whistling to himself looking down at his shoes. Harley liked these shoes; in fact, they were her favorite pair that he owned. They were a pair of black and white oxford brogues. She said they were classy. Joker grinned remembering her on her knees one night, her untying these same shoes, removing them slowly, then the sensual way she had taken his socks off before running her hands under the legs of his slacks, the feel of her hands moving up to his knees. That smile of hers. 

Joker frowned, then growled out between clenched teeth. “Where is she? I need her...” He sounded lost. 

Joker sighed looking up at the moon again. He hadn't heard from Frost yet about the location of Dollmaker, but that was fine. He had some work to do before then. 

Joker started singing under his breath, tapping out a tune on the sidewalk with his shoe. Then he started dancing in place to the song. 

“I can't seem to face up to the facts 

I'm tense and nervous and I can't relax 

I can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire 

Don't touch me I'm a real live wire 

Psycho Killer 

Qu'est-ce que c'est 

Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better 

Run run run run run run run away oh oh 

Psycho Killer 

Qu'est-ce que c'est 

Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-far better 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, away oh oh oh 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah!” 

* 

Joker was imagining the relief he would feel once he had cut Copperhead's throat...watching the life bleed from her eyes, then cutting her eyes out and giving them to Harley. Joker frowned. No, not relief...because that wouldn't be enough, but it would fuel his determination! He grinned happily to himself again...the first step in proving his love to her was imminent. Joker chuckled thinking about Harley and fighting with his emotions. His Harley. He could see her smiling at him, taste her on his tongue, feel her skin under his hands, smooth and creamy, her tongue in his mouth, her mouth on his cock, her body surrounding him, the sound of her voice, her laugh, the way she would say 'puddin'...all the things he adored about her. Joker closed his eyes on the pain, the stabbing, burning gash through his soul that her absence was causing him. The last threads around his sanity were being picked away slowly until they were simply dangling loose. Her absence was like a hole, a gaping all-consuming hole that was pulling him further into the darkness. He realized that Harley's absence was like a black hole sucking what little sanity he had left into oblivion. Joker growled; he didn't like thinking about such things. He would have her back. He needed her, his Harley. 

Joker sniffed and pulled out his gun, held the barrel to his head for a moment, the thought of ending it all, all the pain and doubt, raced through his mind. Sweet darkness, the end of the chaos...but then he smiled and calmed himself. No. He would not end it, he would simply do that he had said; he would show her how much he loved her. When she understood that, she would be back in his arms. Joker smiled; he had to focus on his goal. Harley. He laughed and swung the weapon on his finger before sliding it back into its holster. 

First things first...kill the snake who hurt Harley so badly. Joker shuddered, his eyes going wide for a moment as he remember her lying there pale, dying...leaving him...he shook his head grinning returning to the now and the revenge he was going to take on the snakewoman. She had started this whole horrible ordeal. Joker was going to the one place he knew would give him a good lead, a place that served killers like her. That was why he was heading to a place called Noonan's Bar. It was a dive that was a cover for hitmen, a place where one went to hire their kind...and a perfect place to start looking for Cooperhead since she was usually a hired thug. 

Joker made a face. He had no respect for hired killers. They were lacking vision. Money for murder? Where was the fun in that! No respect for performance, showmanship...the end result! They just came in and tried to kill as quickly and quietly as possible...it was disgusting. 

Joker took a breath as he waited. He continued to sing to himself giggling occasionally. 

“You start a conversation you can't even finish it 

You're talking a lot, but you're not saying anything 

When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed 

Say something once, why say it again?...” 

He danced in a little circle, hands in his pockets. When he turned around, that was when he saw it turning onto the street and approaching, the perfect nondescript car, a silver/grey Oldsmobile Cutlass Calais. 

Joker giggled. He knew this was the perfect place to wait! Quickly Joker dashed away from the street light and hid, waiting for the car to drive up to the stop sign. 

* 

The car, a beat up looking Oldsmoblie, lifeless and colorless, just like its driver, pulled up to the stop sign, coming to a rolling stop. The man behind the wheel looked to the left and then the right, his bald head catching some of the light from the lamppost and reflecting it back just before he began to roll on through the intersection. There was a quick beat between his decision not to come to a full stop and rolling through the sign where Joker stepped out of the shadows in front of the car with a huge smile on his face as he slammed his hands down flat on the hot hood of the vehicle. The man behind the wheel lurched in his seat, slamming on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting the bizarre looking pedestrian in front of him, but the sudden stop threw him forward against his seat belt to almost hit his head against his steering wheel. 

Charlie Collins was a chubby, balding man in a rumpled business suit the same color of old dishwater grey as his car. He was on his way home from work, and he was tired. Nothing ever happened to Charlie. He went to work day after day and came home, day after day, to the same dull apartment and equally dull life. Charlie almost saw the world that way; grey...everything was grey. 

Charlie frowned when he saw the stop sign coming up, contemplating his situation in a heartbeat, should he break the law and keep going? 

There were no cops around, so he could just roll through the stop sign. No one would ever know but him. It would be his secret little crime. Charlie grinned having made the decision to do it when someone stepped out of the shadows, materializing in front of his car!! He couldn't believe his eyes. The man standing in front of his car was dressed like a God-damn funeral director! The man was tall, thin, with skin so pale he looked like a ghost. The suit he wore was tailored to fit him. Even Charlie, who had never worn a good suit in his entire life, could see that. The suit consisted of a black jacket, slacks, vest and shirt, all of it black. The only splash of color aside from his strangely shaded hair was a blood red tie and blood red lips against the snow white skin. 

For a handful of heartbeats, Charlie had no idea what or who he looking at as he sat behind the wheel and snarled under his breath. “God-damn Goths.” 

He slammed his fist on the horn, but the sound that came out of the car sounded weak and pathetic. Charlie grumbled as he leaned out his window and yelled. 

“WATCH WHERE YOU”RE GOING FREAK!!” 

Joker laughed leaning heavily on the hood of the car. “Freak? How rude! And here I was going to offer you a chance to help, but...seeing as you are a rude little fuck, I think I will just simply remove you from behind the wheel my friend.” 

That was the moment then Charlie really, really understood who he was looking at standing in the eerie glow of his headlights, the light shining on a ghostly white face and a red lipped smile. The clothing was different from the pictures he has seen in the papers and on the news, but that smile, the complexion...those he knew...too late, it seemed. 

“Oh shit,” Charlie hissed but by that time Joker was at his door. 

Joker laughed. “Oh shit indeed!” 

Joker yanked the door open before Charlie had a chance to react, but instead of pulling him out, Joker shoved him sideways into the passenger seat. The black suited clown pulled his gun and kept it aimed at Charlie as Joker slipped into the driver's spot behind the wheel. 

Charlie stopped moving, scrunching himself up as small as he could, staring at Joker. 

Joker chuckled, holding the barrel of his gun straight at the middle of Charlie's forehead, his arm steady. “What's your name?” Joker asked 

“Ch-h-charlie Collins.” 

Joker smiled “I really hate people when they're impolite, you know what I mean Charlie?” 

Charlie nodded, his eyes riveted to Joker. 

Joker grinned at the man. “You know who I am Charlie?” 

Charlie Collins nodded. “Yes, yes you're him, the Joker.” 

Joker laughed. “That's right! Gold star for you Charlie!” 

Joker put his weapon away, sliding the gun into the holster under his jacket before setting both hands on the wheel. 

Charlie let out a sigh of relief. “You can have the car Mr. Joker.” 

Joker's lip twitched. When he spoke he just stared out the window shield. “It's just Joker or THE Joker...not 'mister' Joker.” 

“Sorry Joker.” Charlie swallowed. 

Joker started the car, hitting the gas to pull away from the stop sign and turned the drab vehicle down the road to the left heading to the bar. “Charlie, you ever been in love?” Joker asked while he drove. 

Charlie frowned in confusion. “Ah...yeah I guess so.” 

“You guess so? Then I would say you haven't Charlie old pal.” Joker smiled while he drove, his eyes on the road ahead. “Love is crazy. It's the finest form of madness!! Shakespeare wrote that love is merely a madness and you know Charlie old pal? He was right!” 

Joker giggled. “Here I was thinking I was as crazy as I could be, but then she came into my life!! She made me crazier!!” Joker shook his head. “My Harley...so beautiful...soft, smooth...her smile.” Joker glanced at Charlie. “You should see her smile. It's the most perfect smile! And her laugh. I could listen to it all day long.” 

Joker sighed dramatically before he continued. “She made me love her you know. It was like she cast some sort of a spell on me! Love! Me? But there you have it. As the Fine Young Cannibals wrote...by the way don't you just love that band name? I mean I'm not into being a cannibal, but still...perfect name!” Joker laughed. 

“Where was I? Oh yes, love. As that perfectly named band says. “She drives me crazy like no one else 

She drive me crazy and I can't help myself,” Joker sang grinning manically. 

He sighed glancing sideways at Charlie. “ And now, you know what she did? She left!! LEFT ME! After all, all I was trying to do was protect her? You ever try to protect someone Charlie?” 

Charlie shook his head in the negative. 

Joker narrowed his eyes, but then continued. “I didn't tell her...I should have told her. You know they say the secret to a good relationship is communication...you know Charlie. I'm not a good communicator. I didn't know that until now. I never told her I loved her. Should have I suppose,” Joker said, suddenly in a quiet, gravelly tone. “Joke's on me!” Joker laughed and smacked the steering wheel, his laugh containing no humor at all and ended with a hysterical giggle on the end. Charlie felt ill and definitely weird. 

“But now I'm going to show her. I'm nothing without her.” Joker frowned staring out the window with a far off look in his eyes. “Nothing...when did that happen? Never needed anyone before...ever.” Joker laughed. “I usually kill people...well I still do, but now I have her by my side making it so much more fun to kill all those people.” Joker sighed. “So much more fun with her beside me.” Joker turned to Charlie as if he might have the answer, but Charlie just shrugged. Joker gave him a disappointed look turning back to look out the windshield. 

“You know Charlie...I'm out to prove to her how I feel about her. Show her...yes...but first I have to start with who started this whole fucking mess you know? Make that bitch who hurt Harley pay dearly for what she did...for all of it. Heheh!” Joker grinned pressing his front teeth into his bottom lip, his green eyes dancing with glee. 

Charlie just nodded silently. 

Joker laughed. “Cut the head off the snake.” He giggled. “I'm going to do more than cut her head off...going to make her pay dearly....cut each of her poisoned fingers off...then her tongue...take her eyes, then cut her throat...” he muttered to himself turning back to face the road. 

Charlie swallowed wondering if he could open the door and survive the fall from the car. 

“So Charlie, you said you thought you had been in love? Tell me about her.” Joker grinned glancing sideways at the balding man. 

Charlie frowned, but Joker pointed at Charlie's ring finger. “You're married I see.” 

Charlie nodded. “Yes, yes sir, Joker.” 

Joker nodded. “She the love of your life? What's her name?” 

Charlie pressed his thin lips together before he spoke. “Well her name's Peggy.” 

Joker nodded. “She drive you crazy too Charlie?” 

Charlies frowned. “Not really. I mean, we met in high school. I was part of the football team, she was a cheerleader...typical...but then I got her pregnant on prom night and we just sorta, fell into each other. Got married had our son Doug. No other kids...just sorta...” He shrugged. “I don't know...” 

“We're just stuck with each other,” he concluded glumly. 

Joker gave Charlie a sad look, putting his bottom lip out in a pout. “The magic gone Charlie?” 

Charlie shrugged. “I guess, though I'm not sure we ever had it.” 

Joker sighed. “Tsk tsk, Charlie! Love is a grand adventure! It's horrible, then wonderful all at once! It makes you want to kill or fuck all day! You ever feel like that Charlie?” 

Charlie shook his head in the negative making Joker sigh again. 

“You really aren't getting a lot out of life are you Charlie?” Joker chuckled pulling around a corner, but then burst into a bright grin. Joker sighed dramatically. “To quote a popular author...“Love, the deadliest of all deadly things. It kills you when you have it. And when you don't.” 

Joker grinned at him. 

“Ah there it is, my destination! And the end of our little conversation I”m afraid Charlie.” Joker drove the car around the corner, past a barely lit sign, with the “N” fluttering in and out, for Noonan's Bar. Joker found a line of cars parked facing a brick wall, all the vehicles as nondescript as the one Joker was currently driving. Joker turned to face Charlie. 

“You know, it's a shame Charles that you don't know what love really is..that you haven't felt love like I do...the intensity of it, the way it kills you from the inside...but...” Joker shrugged. He reached over and started to get out of the car then stopped. 

“You'll wait here for me, won't you Charlie?” Joker asked with a smile. 

Charlie nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes, yes sir, Joker sir. I'll wait right here.” 

Joker grinned at him. “No you won't.” And with that Joker moved so swiftly that Charlie Collins didn't realize he was dead for a good two seconds. He saw the bloody stiletto knife with a purple enameled handle in Joker's hand. The light from a weak backdoor light caught the blade and Charlie saw the drop of ruby red blood fall from the blade's tip to land on the seat. Joker smiled. 

“Thanks for waiting for me Charlie.” 

Charlie fell back against the passenger side window, his eyes seeing nothing. Joker laughed. “I think I might have just made your wife a very happy woman Charlie.” 

* 

Joker pushed the door open and walked into the bar. The place wasn't full, but he could see perhaps eight patrons littered throughout the joint. The lights inside cast everything in a wet blood-like glow . The back wall was dominated by an old wooden bar, the back of which was covered by a wall size mirror with shelves of liquor bottles lining the wooden shelves. The bartender was a tall, heroin thin woman with blonde hair streaked with black. She was wearing a bikini top, black with the bar's name spread across both breasts and a pair of low riding jeans. She was leaning on the bar talking to some man with long black hair. They both turned to look at him. Music played lightly in the background, someone had chosen Halsey's “Strange Love.” Joker smiled when he entered. How appropriate, he thought. The few other people in here turned toward the door, but Joker ignored them walking to the bar and took a stool. The bartender walked over to him. It was clear from her expression she knew who he was... 

“What can I get you?” she asked in a rough voice, hardened from too many years of liquor and cigarettes. 

Joker pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his jacket, knocking the pack against the palm of his hand, taking one and with a twists of his fingers made a lighter appear and lit the cigarette with a grin. “How about a Shirley Temple?” 

The woman looked taken aback, but she shrugged. “Okay.” She turned and started to get out what she needed to make the drink. Joker smoked slowly, taking a long pull on the cigarette, holding the smoke and then blowing it out slowly as his green eyes scanned the room. 

He smiled when he saw a man he knew. The man was sitting at a table alone drinking a glass of whiskey, the bottle sitting on the table next to him. Joker narrowed his eyes slightly as a smile crept across his lips. The man had red hair and a horrible mustache...Joker chuckled remembering Harley calling it a 'porn' stache. Joker frowned slightly at the stab of pain in his chest thinking about Harley and hearing her voice in his head. Soon, soon, he told himself he would have her back in his arms...soon. The man at the table wore little round glasses and had a terrible smile to match his ugly mustache; just terrible, Joker thought. Really should have it carved right off... 

The man's name was Edward Fryers...mercenary, assassin, douche bag. Joker grinned to himself, he added that last bit himself, but maybe it would go well on a business card. 

But Fryers would know where Copperhead was since he was a known associate of hers... 

The bartender set Joker's drink down in front of him. “One Shirley Temple.” 

Joker grinned. “Ah, it's lovely, thank you dear.” He tossed some money on the bar, picked up his drink and waltzed over to Fryers just as the music changed to Muse's “Running Out of Time.” Joker smiled moving to the music, but then stopping at Fryers table. 

“Mind if I join you?” Joker asked with his best seductive smile. 

For a moment Joker saw it, a flash of panic in the man's eyes, but Fryer did a good job of smothering the expression. “I guess,” he said in an apathetic tone. 

Joker grinned, taking a chair and yanking it back, then flipped it around to straddle the chair, leaning on the back of it with his arms and sipped from his drink. “So Fryers—Edward Fryers isn't it?” 

Fryers looked uncomfortable. “What do you want clown? Don't you do your own killing?” 

Joker giggled. “Yes, yes I do, but you know sweetie I need information and you, my sweet thing, might actually have what I'm looking for.” 

Fryer narrowed his eyes. “It'll cost you.” 

“Of course it will. Isn't that what you guys do? Everything is about money. Tell me where Copperhead is.” Joker grinned and rested his chin on his folded arms on the back of the chair. 

Fryer picked up his glass and swallowed his drink. “Why? What do you want her for?” 

Joker sipped his Shirley Temple. “I want to cut her throat and watch her bleed. I want to pop her eyes like cherries between my teeth and I want to bury my knife in her heart and watch her die slowly. That's all, perfectly innocent!” Joker laughed with a toss of his green haired head. 

Fryer's eye twitched. Joker knew what that man was going to do before he did it. Fryer pulled a knife, a bowie knife fairly quickly. Joker might have been impressed if he had cared. 

Fryer threw the table aside and immedately lunged at Joker with his weapon extended. Joker pushed back from his chair at the same time, moving swiftly and gracefully, pulling both his Beretta M9A3—a recent gift from Frost—and his blade out at the same time while laughing. The bar seemed to suddenly come to life, every person armed with either a gun or a blade. 

Fryer slashed at Joker, managing to cut through his suit and along Joker's right forearm—the hand that held the gun—but if Joker felt anything he gave no indication. Joker responded with his own slash, whipping his blade under and up catching Fryer in a shallow cut along his neck, but a deep slice into Fryer's chin, causing the red haired man to stumbled backwards. 

Joker chuckled. “Goodness me, did I ask the wrong questions?” 

One of the men in the bar, a tall fat man with greasy hair, tried to come up behind Joker, rushing the Joker from his right. Joker turned, sliding his shoes across the floor in a move worthy of a skilled dancer, spun around and dropped to his knees, ignoring Fryer for a moment to deal with this new threat. Joker twisted, using his knees to steady his body and shot, hitting the fat man twice in the chest, then another shot took the man in the thigh, eliciting a disappointed grunt from Joker—he had been aiming at the man's fat gut. The bartender pulled out her own weapon and fired, hitting Joker in his right shoulder from behind. The bullet cut through him at the same moment, ripping through the back of his shoulder and exiting out the front of his suit with a small spatter of blood. Other than a slight jerk as the bullet hit him, the clown prince ignored the pain as he twisted back up onto his feet at the end of his slide, alert for the next threat. 

Another man, thin and wiry and holding a knife, used one of the tables for leverage to leap at Joker from behind. He slammed into Joker's back and buried the blade in his left shoulder. Joker threw his torso forward to throw his assailant over his shoulder and shot him twice in the face as soon as the man landed on his back. 

A black haired woman in a tiny leather skirt threw her blade just as Joker stood up straight, her knife slamming into Joker's thigh hard enough that it staggered him for a moment. He grinned as he yanked the blade out and threw it back at her. She yelped, trying to dive out of the way, but Joker's aim was true as the blade hit her in the throat. She jerked a few times and reached up for her knife, trying to pull it out, but it was already too late. Just to be sure, Joker dropped her with a pair of shots, one in her stomach and another in her shoulder. Another man, younger than the rest yelled. “AAAHH!!” as he picked up a chair and threw it at Joker who easily dove under it to land on his stomach. Joker laughed and raised his pistol to shoot the kid in both of his knees; then as he fell, Joker's next shot was in the forehead, accompanied by a giggle. 

Fryer rushed him from behind, but Joker rolled onto his back (ignoring the knife still embedded in his shoulder) and kicked Fryer in the knee. Fryer stumbled and leaned over in pain. Not one to ignore such a gift, Joker snapped a foot up to kick the man in the face. The bartender took another shot at Joker, but he twisted, avoiding the bartender's shot and returned the favor, one shot going just wide of her torso, but his next round blasting through her cheek. Joker laughed. “Oh cheeky!” 

Joker frowned. That left Fryer and two more men and Joker was fairly sure he only had a couple of shots left...he really hadn't been keeping count (and unaware of the improved model Frost had given him with an increased magazine size.) Joker slid his gun back into its holster, then reached back to yank the blade from his back shoulder with barely a twitch of pain and giggled, now holding a knife in each hand. 

“Okay boys, who wants to kiss me?” Joker chuckled making a kissy face. 

The other two men, both armed with knives, moved closer. Fryer stepped back with a grin. These last two men, the Tremor brothers, were skilled killers. Fryer walked behind the bar grabbing a bottle from the back thinking he was going to watch them kill the Joker. He slammed the bottle's neck against the bar and poured the contents into a glass. He tossed back the glass, wincing as the acholol rolled down his chin and over the slice Joker had cut into it. 

One of the brothers was short and bald, the other was the exact opposite—tall, thin with shoulder-length hair. Joker grinned holding his weapon, ready to let them make the first move. The short one was apparently the more aggressive of the two brothers. He lunched and slashed at Joker who simply arched his body avoiding the slash easily and brought his own knife down, cutting through the short man's forearm. The man hissed, “Fuck!” jumping back, clearly unprepared for how quick the Joker really was. 

The thin brother leapt in, thinking to catch Joker off guard, except Joker deftly wrapped his left arm around the thin man's yanking him forward and using the elbow of his opposite arm to smash the man's nose. The thin brother let out a yelp of pain. “MOTHER FUCKER!” 

Joker laughed and shoved the man away as blood ran freeing from the thin brother's nose. 

Joker sighed. “You two are really a disappointment. Annoying really. I'm a busy man. I have a girl to win back and all this is doing is delaying me in my quest.” Joker grinned. “Oooh, I'm on a quest—never thought of it that way. Harley would love that.” He sighed forlornly with a look to the side at nothing in particular. 

The short bald one rushed Joker again. Joker met his rush head on, the two men locking arms each with a knife at the others throat. Joker grinned at the bald man. “Has anyone told you that you have dreamy eyes?” 

The bald man's lip twitch. “You fucking queer!” 

Joker laughed. “Oh someone's insecure!” 

The two men struggled, but the clown noticed his taller opponent was moving to the side attempting to flank him. With the desire to end this quickly, Joker shoved against the small brute, his arm moving quickly, almost too quickly to see as he pushed the bald brother away from him slashing down with his knife across the man's arm, then back with an upward slash cutting deeply across the man's cheek. The bald brother yelled. “SHIT!” 

Joker giggled. “Oh goodness, look what I did!” 

The bald man hissed and charged forward at Joker, inadvertently getting in his brother's way. Joker let the shorter opponent slash at him, accepting a minor cut to his arm because it brought the shorter man closer, and then he moved like a dancer, taking a step forward to cross his arms and bring them across in a swift double swipe, slicing into the man's throat, right under his chin, the blades slicing deep from ear to ear. Joker took three quick steps back with a flourish letting the dead man fall to the floor. 

The thin brother screamed. “ARNIE!!” 

He turned wild eyes on Joker. “YOU FUCKER!” 

He charged, not thinking his attack through in his rage. Joker smiled and let the man come to him. (Fryer was watching all this, frozen to the spot, the thought that this might be a good time to escape didn't occur to him at the moment, mesmerized by Joker's killing prowess.) 

The thinner man was a little better than his brother. He came at Joker in a series of quick strikes. Joker brought his arms up, his blades blocking each one, the two men twisting and turning around the bar. The thin man tried for a low cut, going for Joker's stomach, but he blocked and returned a slash with his left hand at the other man's throat. 

The man was ready for it, leaning just out of the way of Joker's blade. 

The man next took a few quick strikes at Joker's face, but again Joker easily blocked them leaning back with a bright smile. They slashed at each other again, the thin brother coming in close, snarling in desperation, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Joker was all smiles, a thin line of sweat rolling down his neck, but while the other man was running out of steam, Joker didn't seem to be weakening at all, despite his many wounds and the length of the combat. 

Joker dropped one of his knives and wrapped his hand around the man's wrist, pulling him in closer. The other man tried to break Joker's hold on him, but the mad clown's grip was like iron. Joker yanked him closer yet, smiled, then whispered. “A kiss before dying?” 

The man looked confused and disgusted, then in a sudden twist of his arm Joker yanked the man's knife arm down between them. Joker flipped the blade in his own hand from holding it facing down, to suddenly facing up and stabbed upward. His blade slammed into the other man's eye, buried to the hilt. The man let out a blood-curdling scream, dropping to his knees, his own blade clattering to the floor. The man's hands hovered and twitched around the blade as if he couldn't see it, couldn't tell where exactly the blade was in his face. 

Joker watched him with a smile before he stepped close, wrapped his hand around the blade and yanked it out. 

The man's screaming suddenly ceased; he let out a strange gurgling gasp and fell onto his side, his hands still twitching around the bloody eyesocket and making strange mewling noises like a dying cat. Joker wiped the blade on his pants leg. “That's my favorite knife,” he explained with a wink. “Harley gave it to me.” 

Joker then spun on his heel to face Fryer. “Now, where were we?” 

Fryer, a trained killer, a hitman, panicked. He had seen some terrible things in his job, things that would make other men vomit, but nothing seemed as frightening as a bar room of armed people being slaughtered by one man who just kept smiling about it. 

Fryer dived behind the bar, grabbing for the dead bartender's weapon; he came up on his feet at the same time that his fingers closed around the weapon, just as Joker snatched a bottle of vodka off the shelf and hit Fryer across the forehead so quickly that Fryer never registered the hit. 

He simply fell backwards over the body of the bartender. 

Joker smiled down at him then giggled. 

* 

Frost took the offer of a glass of bourbon, sipping the golden liquid slowly. He was sitting in a large recliner at Harriet's place, a little apartment tucked away in a section of Old Gotham. Harriet was wearing a pair of overalls stained with paint. Her hair was cut into a short, rough looking bob, all spikes and fly away hair. She flopped into the chair facing him propping her bare feet on the little coffee table between them. 

“Okay Frost, what is it that is so important you had to talk to me right away?” 

“I need your help locating someone for Joker.” Frost smiled at her. He liked Harriet a lot. She was cute, smart and always wore shorts, tonight was no exception as she was wear a super short pair of overalls. Her bunny ears that were part of her costume were lying across the cushion next to her on the table beside her chair. 

She made a face. “Joker? Who is that nut job looking for?” 

Frost frowned. “Dollmaker.” 

Harriet shuddered. “Another crazy.” 

Frost sipped his drink and smiled. “You know you run around with Mad Hatter, don't really think you have a lot of room to be calling other people's bosses nutjobs.” 

She giggled. “Touché. Why is he looking for Dollmaker? Some score to settle?” 

Frost shook his head, going pale. “No, Miss Quinn left him. Not sure on all the details, but the Boss has been acting weird around her. He stopped letting her go on jobs with us. Kept trying to keep her in the hideout. Miss Quinn lost her temper and left. Joker has no idea where she is and he isn't acting right.” 

Harriet made a rude noise, but Frost glared at her. “You know, say what you will, but the Boss...he loves Miss Quinn.” 

Harriet sighed. “Why'd he start not wanting her on jobs you think?” 

Frost shrugged. “If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it has something to do with their last job together. Miss Quinn was hurt...bad. I really thought she was going to die. Joker went and fetched Poison Ivy to help save her.” 

Harriet frowned. “Damn, that is bad.” 

Frost nodded. “I think he's scared of something happening to her. But now...he is unhinged. He was always crazy, but now...now he is acting insane.” 

Harriet frowned. “Well, I heard Hatter mention that Dollmaker was back in Arkham. You know what he does don't you?” 

Frost shook his head and Harriet's brown eyes widened. “Really, he likes to make “dolls” out of human body parts.” 

Frost frowned speaking more to himself. “I don't understand what Joker wants from him...he said something about giving something of himself to Harley...” 

Harriet frowned. “Maybe you better go find Harley, Frost. You should let her know that Joker is looking for Dollmaker. I don't know what's going on, but this can't be good.”


	3. Deuce

Fryers woke up slowly, every inch of his body hurt and his mouth was coated with the coppery taste of blood. He blinked his eyes a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. Above him was the ceiling of the bar he had been in and the dim reddish lights were the same. He became immediately aware of pressure on his chest and looked up to see Joker sitting on his chest, his polished shoes on either side of Fryers's face, leveling a bloody smile down at him. This close, Fryers could see the blood coating the white teeth and smell the drying blood from the clown's wounds, the blood having soaked into the suit Joker wore. 

“Well, rise and shine buttercup! I have some questions for you.” Joker's smile was bright and full of cheer, quite out of place for the surroundings and the situation, Fryers thought. The clown reached down to trace Fryers' lips with his gloved finger. 

Fryers yanked his face away from Joker. He realized then that he was being held down, tied spread eagled on the floor of the bar. He couldn't tell what Joker had tied him with or to what, only that he couldn't move his arms or legs and his body was chilled. The next thing to register was that he was naked. Joker sat calmly on top of him, his arms resting on his knees as he watched Fryers struggle, growling and spitting. 

Joker chuckled. “Oh listen to you!” he said gleefully, before he booped Fryers on the nose with one long finger. 

“Let me go your perverted clown!! I won't tell you anything!!” Fryers snarled and struggled against his bonds. Jokerstood up while Fryers started cursing and walked over behind the bar. Fryers could just see the tall lean form of the Joker as he stood with his back to Fryers facing the mirror wall behind the bar lined with bottles of alcohol. Joker tapped his chin while his eyes scanned the shelves of liqour before he pulled down a bottle of rum and poured some into a glass he retrieved from under the bar, after adding a few ice cubes. He then walked back over to Fryers, glass in hand, and pulled a chair out from one of the tables. He twirled the chair around on one leg until it stopped, the back of the chair facing Fryers. Joker straddled the chair, his arms across the back of it, twirling the ice in his drink around slowly while he stared down at Fryers with a curious expression. 

“I'm going to be honest with you darling, you are not going to make it through your upcoming ordeal.” 

Joker took a sip of his rum. “BUT you do have a choice: you can die swiftly and relatively painlessly OR you can die slowly, in agony.” Joker took a measured breath and then a slow grin spread across his red lips. “The choice is yours. All I want to know is where do I find Copperhead.” 

Joker took another sip of rum before turning around and placing the glass on the table behind him. He turned back around, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his coat. He placed the cigarette butt between his lips and lit it with the careless ease of someone who has all the time in the world. 

“I won't tell you anything,” Fryers snarled a promise to his captor. 

Joker took a long pull on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly and watching it drift toward the ceiling before answering Fryers in a conversational tone. “I figured you would say that...you would not believe how much torture a human body can endure, so there is a good chance you won't tell me anything for a long while yet. BUT lucky for you I'm inventive and the bar has a lot of really fun toys just lying about.” 

Joker giggled waving a hand at Fryers like an excited child. “Hold on, I'll show you what I found in the back!” 

He took off, vanishing out of Fryers' sight. Fryers struggled to break free while Joker was gone, but however Joker had him held down, he just couldn't break free. Damn that clown, he thought bitterly. 

Joker came back into the room singing to himself and danced across the blood stained floor as he made his way back to Fryers. 

“I am afraid of you now 

Now that you left me 

Nothing to say, not much now 

Now that you left me 

Now that you left me 

Now that you left me 

Just for how long did you know 

Before you left me? 

Nothing to do, it's up to you 

To use it against me 

Use it against me 

Now that you left me 

You are ahead of me now 

Because you left me 

Words that I said, all yours now 

Use it against me 

You have erased me 

Now that you left me 

I'll be gone, I'll be gone...” 

Fryers found it oddly uncomfortable that Joker had an excellent singing voice. The man was dancing with an invisible partner, his cigarette hanging from his mouth and he was also dancing...beautifully. The whole scene made Fryers' blood run cold. The man, the freak, was really insane, Fryers concluded. Joker finally turned around to face him again and Fryers could see a pair of pliers in his hands. 

Joker held them up and waved the pliers back and forth. “Look what I found!” 

Joker moved suddenly, swiftly, dropping down to crouch over Fryers's chest. “Did I tell you that my girl left me? “ Joker's face went dark, his expression that of a man in pain—angry pain. He pulled his cigarette from his mouth and flicked it into the bar somewhere. “I need to get her back, which is where you come in my sweetheart. You are going to tell me where to find Copperhead...” He smiled, all white perfect teeth. “Now, what do you think I should do with these? “ He wiggled the pliers in front of Fryers's eyes. “Teeth or fingernails? ” 

Joker grinned and then offered, “You know, I'm being a good sport and letting you pick!” 

Fryers spit at Joker. Joker frowned, looking mock sad. “Aw...now that wasn't nice.” 

Joker grabbed a hold of Fryers's hair, yanking up, then back as hard as he could, forcing the pliers between Fryers's lips. He snapped the pliers in place over one of Fryers's front teeth. 

Joker laughed. “As the judge said to the dentist: Do you swear to pull the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth?” 

And then he started to yank. Fryers started to scream, but the sound was muffled with Joker's hand and the pliers in his mouth. Joker twisted and yanked, struggling with the tooth though his smile never faltered. Fryers cried out as blood started to leak from the tooth, until with one powerful pull, Joker yanked the tooth out, nearly falling backwards off of Fryers, a arc of blood flying into the air. 

Joker laughed. “YES!!” He held the broken tooth up like a trophy between the pliers with a triumphant grin. 

Fryers screamed. 

Joker dropped the tooth onto the floor where it made a light rattle. “There, wasn't that fun!? Now: where is Copperhead?” 

Fryers whimpered, blood running down the side of his mouth and covering his lips. “I won't tell you!” 

Joker grinned, but the smile never reached his eyes as he whispered. “Oh, but you will. You will tell me anything and everything.” 

Joker shoved the pliers back into Fryers' mouth though the man shook his head back and forth trying to avoid the pliers. Joker jammed the tool between his captive's lips, cutting and bruising them as he did so. Joker smiled and started to sing again while he worked at the second tooth. 

“I'll be gone 

I'll be gone...” 

* 

The next day, around late afternoon, Harley woke to the sounds of Ivy humming in the next room. If she hadn't know any better she would think that Ivy was being loud on purpose. Harley groaned. She had terrible dreams. Dreams about Joker. One dream was of him, laughing, but with the maniacal edge his laugh would take sometimes when he had gone over the deep end; when his insanity threatened to pull him all the way under. Whenever he became like that, too insane to function, Harley would hold him, press his head against her breasts, stroke his hair and his face and whisper to him about how much she loved and needed him, how much he meant to her...that usually brought him back from the edge of complete madness. Even now she could feel the pressure of his arms around her. He would hold onto her desperately during those times. Sometimes he would cry, pressing his head against her breasts, sobbing until he fell asleep, other times he would press his face against her breasts trying to stifle the laughter until he could breathe again. Either way, he had needed her to step back from the edge of complete and utter madness. 

But in the dream she hadn't been there, she hadn't been there to pull him back, and he had gone completely, irrevocably insane. When she found him in the dream, he had been covered in blood, naked and leaning against a wall using a puddle of blood like fingerpaints, all while laughing, of course. His eyes were focused on something only he could see and he trembled when he looked up at her. She had seen blood start to leak from his eyes, his ears and nose, flooding the dream in red. It had reminded her of that scene in “The Shining” when all the blood had come flooding out of that elevator. 

Harley had woken up gasping for breath. 

She sighed curling into herself. Her first reaction was to go find him, but it was only a dream. Just because she dreamed it didn't mean Mistah J was falling down his rabbit hole...it just meant she missed him. 

And she did miss him. She missed him so much it was a physical ache in her chest, her stomach, her groin, every part of her yearned for him, as if part of herself was missing. She wanted to call him and tell him just to say he was sorry and she would come right back, but that felt like cheating. He needed to figure out to apologize on his own. He needed to understand he had hurt her...Harley frowned. Maybe he just couldn't understand? Was she expecting too much from him? She knew he was crazy, maybe she should...no...no she would not doubt herself. She would stick to her guns, so to speak, and wait. 

Harley sighed chewing on her bottom lip as the emptiness of not having her puddin near threatened to consume her. She decided that she might as well get up since it was clear she wasn't going to get back to sleep with the malaise that the dream had left hanging over her and the fact that Ivy was humming so damnably loud! 

Harley walked into the next “living room” of the green house (Harley just called it that because she wasn't sure what else to call the room, but it had a couch so she thought of it as a living room. Though no TV! Who lived like that?!) She wore slouchy red socks, some red retro 1970 athletic shorts, an over sized sweatshirt that was currently hanging off her shoulders with “Straight Out of Gotham” across the chest. Her hair was standing up every which way when she walked in scratching her rear. 

She made a face when she saw Ivy, all chipper and perky. The bitch, Harley thought secretly in her evil sleep deprived mind. Ivy was dressed in “normal” clothing instead of her more “green” creations, fussing over her plants like a mother hen and then she saw Harley. She smiled as she turned to face her friend who looked like she had been in a fight with the bed. “Glad you're up! I had the perfect idea sweetie! It will get your mind off your problems, at least for a day or two.” 

Harley groaned. “Does it involve coffee?” 

Ivy smiled. “No, but hold on and I'll make you some tea.” 

Harley muttered, “I'm sick of tea already.” 

But when Ivy came back with a steaming cup she took it. 

“I was thinking we should get out of Gotham for the weekend. Give you a chance to clear your head.” Ivy grinned with excitement. 

“Out of Gotham? And go where?” Harley frowned sniffing the tea before she took a sip; she made a little bit of a face, the tea was bitter. Why couldn't Ivy figure out that everything needed sugar in it! 

“Well, there's a huge garden show in Blüdhaven that I thought we could attend.” Ivy smiled moving over to sit by Harley and put her arm around her friend's shoulders. “It will be fun. The two of us on the town..like normal people...” 

Harley frowned. “No offense Red, but staring at flowers doesn't seem like a lot of fun. And I don't think the two of us can do normal...'specially not you. No offense.” 

Ivy frowned. “I can wear make-up...for this anyway...” Ivy squeezed Harley's shoulders. “Come on Harley. Get your mind off your troubles...we could go dancing at night..flirt with a couple of guys then break their hearts...or legs depending...” Ivy added with a wicked grin. 

Harley frowned. “Well...maybe—I guess.” 

Ivy kissed her on the cheek. “GREAT! I packed our bags!” 

Harley frowned. “Hey!!” 

Ivy smiled. “I knew you would say yes.” 

Harley grumbled into her tea cup, taking a sip and making a face again. 

* 

Frost left Harriet's place the next morning walking outside into the cool Gotham fall air. It was steadily becoming cooler during the day as well. Frost loved this time of year. Usually autumn was a time that Joker and Harley became a little more...relaxed, but...he sighed, that wasn't going to be the case if he couldn't get them back together. He stretched his arms over his head and popped his tension wracked back. Harriet was fun, but she did have the energy of a rabbit and sometimes that energy was hard to keep up with, though he thought he made a good showing last night. He smiled a little to himself, pulling out his phone to try again texting Quinn when he cursed under his breath remembering that Quinn hadn't taken her phone when she left. He cursed again shoving his phone back in his back pocket. He had been trying to contact her since last night when Harriet suggested he let Harley know what was going on with Joker and the fact that the clown was looking for Dollmaker, but she hadn't answered any of his messages or texts...now he remembered why. 

Frost frowned. He could understand if she didn't want to talk to anyone right now, but this was serious. Frost looked both ways down the street as if there might be an answer waiting for him on the pavement. 

He hadn't heard from the Boss all night either. For a moment Frost wondered if he should be worried, but it wasn't unusual for Joker not to contact him for a while..especially if he was hunting. But in his current state, Frost was worried. Anyone who put themselves in Joker's path while the Boss was hunting would end up dead themselves—or worse—and Joker was losing what little grip he had without Harley there. Frost had to worry: how far would he go down the rabbit hole before even Harley couldn't bring him back? Frost decided that since Harley wasn't answering, then perhaps he should go looking for her instead. First thought: home for a shower and a change of clothes. Frost thought with a frown as he walked down the pavement toward his car that if he couldn't find Harley, he might have to do something drastic... 

* 

Joker yawned covering his mouth with one hand as he stood up. He smiled putting his long fingered hands on the small of his back and stretched backwards with a groan, his back making a deep crunching noise. The wounds he had suffered burned and pulled. He had bandaged them himself, but it wasn't a very good job. That was another aspect of life that Harley always took care of, she knew how to bandage up his many wounds. Joker's heart twisted in his chest at the thought of Harley. But then he reached up and stretched his arms over his head pushing the dark thoughts aside for now. It had been a long night and a long morning, but he had finally made progress. For a moment he thought about going home and grabbing a couple of hours sleep before going after Copperhead, but then his mind drifted to Harley. He smiled thinking about her in her pajamas, a pair of purple and pink polkadot pajama pants, and a little purple tank top...the way it would fall off her shoulders, her blonde hair a mess...the way she would smile at him sleepily before grabbing his arms and wrapping her arms around him, snuggling her head in his shoulders. He would pretend to be annoyed, but he liked it when she did that. Then his thoughts drifted to her lying naked in the bed, her arms over her head, the curves of her body, the way she would smile at him looking luscious, good enough to eat...she would lick her kiss-swollen lips, curling her fingers, beckoning him...the softness of her skin, his hands filled with her, squeezing her breasts, the feel of her legs around him, the scent of her skin, the little moans of pleasure she would make... 

Joker closed his eyes feeling a tremble ripple through his body. He shook himself like a dog, shaking off the feeling of despair...he took another deep breath, his smile returning slowly. 

He grinned looking over to the bar where he had arranged all of Fryers' teeth that he had pulled into a bloody smile along the counter top of the bar. As for Fryers, well he was currently lacking several teeth, though several of them had broken and were still in Fryers's mouth. Fryers had passed out about twenty minutes go. Joker grinned. Fryers had lasted a lot longer than he would have thought! Good on him! 

But Joker had what he wanted, he knew that Copperhead was hiding out in the old section of Gotham, North Gotham, supposedly in the remains of the old Gotham First Christian Church. Joker grinned as he thought to himself, a church, how funny. He walked over to the bar and poured himself another drink; bourbon this time. He leaned back against the bar looking around at all the dead bodies and Fryers lying spread eagle on the floor. He sipped his bourbon and giggled imagining the Gotham City cops finding the place...he decided to put the close sign up and lock the door...the longer it took them to find the scene, the funnier it would be! 

Joker finished his glass of bourbon and set off, whistling to himself. 

* 

Frost arrived at the greenhouse just as night was setting. The place was not easy to find. The greenhouse itself was located on a property shared with an abandoned mansion which itself was almost completely taken over by trees and other plants. The abandoned property really was the perfect place for Ivy. 

He had to follow the overgrown path to find the greenhouse that was perfectly hidden in the thick overgrowth. It had taken him calling in some favors, but he had eventually learned the possible location of where Ivy was staying. Frost had run through his mind the possible places where Quinn would run and her best friend Poison Ivy had to be it. Frost frowned looking around when he arrived. The place had that abandoned feeling that places had when the people who lived there were gone. Carefully he walked further into the green looking around for traps, killer plants...choking vines...one never knew with Ivy, but as he edged his way to the greenhouse, nothing attacked him. He knocked on the door, but there were no sounds; complete silence. 

Carefully, Frost put his hand to the door knob, opened the door and peered inside. He was immediately hit by the smell of soil, plants and moisture. The greenhouse was vast, easily the size of a three bedroom home. As he stood there looking around, he could see that a space had been cleared off and turned into a “living room” of sorts with a couch and a beat up looking table. There were tables and cabinets in here and he could see a couple of mugs. As he explored, he realized the space had been divided into sections, not just the living room, but there appeared to be a bedroom with a small bed. As Frost stepped closer he saw something that told him Harley had at least been here. It was a shirt lying across the bed. Frost picked it up to examine. It was an old dress shirt of the Boss's; the dress shirt was a deep burgundy with a few missing buttons. Frost remembered seeing Miss Quinn wear the shirt all the time. He frowned looking around. Well, she had been here, but where were they now? 

* 

Joker had disposed of Charlie at the bar, setting him up in a chair and pouring him a drink before he left. It was the least he could do since Charlie had let him borrow the car, he thought to himself with a grin. 

Joker smiled as he drove. The evening was just beginning, the sky that nice purple between sunset and moonrise. 

Joker turned the radio up and smiled brightly when an old song from the 1980's started to play. “Ah 1983!! Whatta year!!” 

He turned the song up as loud as the stereo in the car would allow and began to sing along to the song as he drove, feeling particularly giddy. Joker frowned in thought for a moment. That could be the lack of sleep, or food, or the alcohol he had consumed, which had been a great deal. He chuckled pulling out a cigarette while he drove with one hand, sticking it between his lips before fumbling around his jacket pockets for his lighter. He held the lighter up, flipping the lid and stopped for a moment. Harley had given him the lighter...on his unbirthday. He laughed. Harley loved unbirthdays! She was always giving him gifts, or bringing home cupcakes, or decorating the hideout whenever she decided it was time to celebrate an unbirthday. He stared at the lighter for a moment then had to struggle for control of the car as he had started to drift. Someone had hit their horn as Joker veered hard to the right. Joker snarled glaring in the rear view as the car sped by. 

“Asshole,” he muttered before he lit his cigarette and returned to singing, his voice catching the tones perfectly. Joker sang loudly and grinned the whole time. 

“...I have given you all 

All that I had 

But with a slam of the door 

You've driven me mad 

Now I'm sad 

Tell me what you want … 

You have taken it all 

All of my love 

Unrelenting you told 

You told me a lie 

So I can cry 

There aren't words for it all 

All that I feel 

With the palm of your hand 

You crushed me for real 

Now what's the deal....” 

He was singing along loudly when he saw the church come into view. Joker pulled up across the street and turned off the engine. He leaned forward, resting his arm against the steering wheel, lightly tapping out a tune on wheel while gazing up at the church. He grinned as he took a long drag on his cigarette. “Time to go say hi!” 

* 

Inside the church, Copperhead, dressed in her usual working costume, light red pants, red vest that showed off her muscled arms and neck tattoo, was sitting on one of the pews looking through messages on her phone. The church had been her hideout in Gotham for years now. The basement was fully decked out with everything she needed to lay low: a bed, a bathroom, a table and chair, a couple of paperback books and a lamp that gave out a pathetic amount of light, but it was enough for her. It wasn't the luxury hotels she was used to, but in Gotham it was better to keep as low a profile as possible because of the Batman. But she had been here for over two months! It was time she either had a mission or to cut ties with Black Mask and get the fuck out of Gotham. 

Right now though she was giving Black Mask one more chance. If she didn't hear from him this week she was leaving Gotham and heading overseas. She had been offered a job to assassinate some Saudi Arabian prince and the job was all kinds of lucrative. But she had a certain level of loyalty to Black Mask, which was why she was still in Gotham. Copperhead sighed as she flipped through her messages. The only reason she was on the upper level of the church right now was because she couldn't get reception in the basement. Copperhead yawned, flipping through her messages muttering to herself. “With what I pay for this phone you would think I could get reception in a fucking basement.” She held her phone gingerly in her hands, careful of her poison metal claws (she never left her lair without them. One could never been too careful was her motto, even when hitting the twenty-four hour convenience store for some food.) She sighed. She was expecting a message from Black Mask and she just couldn't come to terms with the fact that he had left her hanging. After that botched assignment where the clown and his goons has showed up, she had been lying low...waiting to hear what she should do next, but Black Mask had been quiet. She would never have given anyone two months like she had him...no one. 

She sighed. At least he hadn't sent anyone to try to take care of her; that was a good sign. 

She had just decided to head out and grab a pizza when the doors at the end of the nave burst open. 

“HONEY! I'M HOME!” 

She turned at the sound of the doors slamming and the voice echoing off the walls. Copperhead's eyes went wide when she saw Joker standing at the end of the nave, grinning as the streetlights cast a strange diluted rainbow of color over the pale man. 

Joker grinned wider, wider than any normal person could, immediately spying her near the altar. “Oh, well now! Just the lady I was looking for! How fortuitous!” Copperhead leapt to her feet, hopping up onto the back of one of the pews, crouching like a dangerous animal, the pew barely moving with her weight as she teetered on the back of it. “What are you doing here clown?” she demanded through clenched teeth. 

She frowned studying him. Despite the lack of light in here, she could see that he had recently been wounded, badly. Even from here, she could still smell blood about him floating on the air. His being wounded might work to her advantage, though the fact he seemed unbothered by the wounds made her skin crawl. There was definitely something wrong with that man. 

Joker strolled down the nave smiling merrily. “Well if it isn't Miss Copperhead. You know I went looking for you just last night and lucky me: I found someone who knew exactly where you were!!” 

He walked down the nave as if he had not a care in the world. “Now, I'm here to kill you! Isn't that nice of me?” 

“Kill me? Why?” Copperhead asked with genuine confusion, preparing to move onto the offensive. 

“You took my Harley from me.” Joker stopped and now Copperhead could truly see his expression as the streetlight turned red as it reflected though the stain-glass window. He was smiling, as he often did, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. His eyes were flat, lifeless, the only color was provided by the light streaming through the broken glass of the church's stainglass windows. 

“It's fitting that you should die in the corpse of a dead church.” Joker chuckled then, a low and dangerous sound. “That's almost funny.” 

Joker sighed then. “I've also decided not to shoot you...too quick. You deserve my full attention! So I brought this with me and saved it just for you.” 

She watched carefully as he pulled out a bowie knife from the hidden confines of his suit jacket. “See how special I think you are? I brought this with me just to kill you.” Copperhead laughed. “Kill me? You are funny.” 

The assassin leapt down and raced up the aisle toward Joker. She sprang up, a powerful leap with legs and body honed by years of work, practice, and training, throwing her legs forward to slam him in the chest. She sprang backwards from the attack to land in a crouch a few meters away from Joker. Joker stumbled back, but he didn't go down like she expected; she hadn't even knocked the breath from him! 

He giggled. “Oh look at you! Foreplay! Well, I really must tell you. I'm a one woman clown.” 

Copperhead hissed. She rushed forward again, thinking to end this quickly, but Joker surprised her by how swiftly he moved. He shifted his position, stepped back, avoiding her slashes by simply slapping her hand with the poison claws down, surprising the assassin. In response, Copperhead twisted around onto her hands and wrapped her legs around his neck. 

Joker laughed. “You are kinky!” 

He brought his knife around, taking a quick slice at her thigh. The cut was deep and blood instantly burst from the wound to run down her leg. Copperhead hissed in pain. She loosened her grip on his neck, dropping one of her legs to kick him in the chin with her foot, knocking his head back, before she flipped backwards to land in a crouch again, her eyes narrowed. “I don't know what your problem is clown, but I will kill you.” 

Joker laughed motioning at her with his now bloody blade. “You will try, but I'm notoriously hard to kill.” 

Copperhead rushed Joker. She moved just like a snake, with quick sliding movements of her body before hitting his body hard. She swung herself up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and squeezed with all her strength. She brought one gloved hand up and slashed downward at her opponent's face, but the wily man snapped his blade up, deflecting the blow with a spark as metal struck metal. Then Joker stumbled back, laughing and choking at the same time while he slashed with his blade, the sharp edge cutting deeply into one of her forearms. She gasped in pain letting go of him and doing a back flip to put some distance between the two of them. 

Joker laughed again, turning around to face her once more, waving the knife in front of him. “Oh, you are getting fresh with me!” 

Copperhead dropped onto her hands and arched her body using her legs to kick at Joker's face. He blocked her with his forearms, but she pressed the attack, doing a swift series of kicks using her whole body to twist herself around and around. Joker blocked each one, taking several steps backwards as he did so, retreated under the assault. Joker snapped a forearm out, slamming one of her kicks wide, then came at her with a series of swift slashes forcing her backward. She flipped several times landing just beyond his reach. 

“You're fast,” she stated, almost impressed with his prowess, if not his demeanor. 

Joker grinned. “Only sometimes...other times I'm very slow—but only Harley knows about that.” He giggled and waggled his eyebrows at her. 

Copperhead made a face before she dived into a forward flip, landing in a crouch on the balls of her feet, then spun her right leg around, trying to knock Joker's legs out from under him. He leapt up avoiding her leg, but she twisted around again immediately and this time her heel connected with his cheek. 

Joker twisted with it and fell. He landed hard, hitting a couple of pews which caused a domino effect, the rest of them falling. His body hit the ground hard and he didn't get up. 

Copperhead stayed crouched for a few more seconds,, her eyes narrowed watching him, but he didn't move. Slowly she stood up and walked over to him. She crouched down over him, grabbing his shoulder and rolled him over. As soon as he was on his back Joker's eyes opened and he grinned. 

“Surprise!!” He sprayed something into her face. 

Copperhead stumbled back from him. Her face burned, her mouth and cheeks pulling taut and a laugh started to bubble out of her mouth against her will. She dropped to the floor, falling on her back. She looked up to see Joker watching her with a smile. 

“You're lucky my dear. That's not my fatal Joker venom...but by the time I'm done with you, you are going to wish it had been.” He laughed...it started out low and soft, but gradually grew wilder becoming more and more maniacal the louder his laugh became...


	4. All My Hate

Harley had her hair pulled into pigtails with hair ties that had large plastic red balls attached. The red matched her overalls, the legs of which she had rolled up to mid-calf showing off her red and white striped socks and her red sneakers. The only thing not red in her outfit was the t-shirt she wore which was white with a pink bow on the front. She sighed loudly again, her hands behind her back as she walked beside Ivy. Ivy ignored her friend's sigh as she continued to examine the plants around them. Harley was actually having more fun staring at Ivy than the flowers...which were pretty and all, but they were just flowers. Though Ivy was acting like the damn things were porno pictures with all her salivating and oohing and ahhing over them. She looked like she was ready to have the big “O” any minute...which Harley thought was pretty funny. But what made looking at Ivy fun was that fact that Ivy was dressed in black skinny jeans, a black and white striped blouse with a plum colored blazer, all very conservative, but the real kicker for Harley was the make-up! Ivy had made her face, neck, hands...any exposed portion of her body that was usually green was now the skin tone she had possessed—Harley presumed—before her transformation into Poison Ivy. It was so freaky! It made Harley want to laugh. 

They had stopped so that Ivy could orgasm over some orchids, so Harley let her mind wander while blowing large pink bubbles with her gum. She wondered what Joker was doing right now...did he miss her. She missed him...a lot. So much so that she was starting to have tummy aches, her chest hurt and sleeping was next to impossible. She thought about going home when she and Ivy returned. She hated fighting with him...and she hated not having his arms around her when she slept...or his mouth on her...his tongue...his laugh...UGH!! She thought to herself. 

“Harley?!! Are you listening?” Ivy snapped her fingers in front of Harley's face to bring her back to the present. 

“Huh? What'dya say Red?” Harley frowned in confusion. 

“I said. 'How about we come back here tonight.' I really want these orchids for my collection.” Ivy grinned deviously. 

“Oooh, you mean some breaking and entering? I thought we were going dancing tonight?” Harley asked as she pulled out a stick of bubble gum from the front pocket of her overalls and put the gum in her mouth. 

Ivy chuckled. “Well, after dancing of course!” 

“Will we head back to Gotham after that?” Harley asked her voice hopeful. 

Ivy smiled and sighed. “Sure Harley, we'll head back, but you have to promise me something.” She leveled a serious gaze at her friend. “You will go home and talk to Joker.” 

Harley pressed her lips together like she was really thinking this over before she grinned. “Yes!” 

Ivy laughed. “All right.” 

Ivy linked her arms with Harley's. “Let's go shopping for some dance clothes and plot our little escapade.” 

* 

Joker sat on the floor with his arms resting on his bent knees. His arms were covered in blood all the way to his elbows in the bright crimson fluid. He stared at the blood dripping slowly from the tip of his knife, watching the way the blood hit the floor in slow thick drops. His face was blank, no expression at all. He looked up to see two eyeballs lying on the floor in front of him staring sightlessly at him. 

Joker stuck his bottom lip out looking at the eyes. “You know...I don't feel any better. Maybe...I should go after Black Mask.” He smiled a little at the thought of peeling all his masks off, both real and...skinning him alive to see what was underneath sounded fun, but...no...he wanted Harley back first. He needed her back. Joker looked back at the eyes on the floor staring at him. 

“Maybe I need help? Someone to talk to...what do you think?” Joker tilted his head to the side, but the eyes didn't answer back. 

Joker frowned. “That's what I thought.” 

He sighed and stood up, stretching his arms over his head, his back cracking loudly, blood dripping from the knife into his green hair to slowly run down his forehead though he didn't seem to notice. He walked over to Copperhead's body and searched her. Slipping his knife into the pocket of his jacket, he wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he did come up with something unexpected. He grinned holding up an old fashioned Apple Ipod with earbuds. Joker laughed. “How quaint!!” 

He put the earbuds in and turned the Ipod on, tilting his head. “Oh!” He giggled as Ivy Levan began to sing “All my Hate” in his ears. Joker bounced his head to the music looking over at the corpse of Copperhead. He took her phone, which had a crack on the surface and some blood smeared across it, but it seemed to still be in working order, so he pocketed it. There was one more thing he was going to take from her to give to Harley besides her eyes, one more thing he could do. He grinned and danced himself outside to the car. 

He sang under his breath as pulled the car door open and leaned in picking up the bloody pliers he had decided at the last minute to take with him from the bar, the ones he had used on Fryers' teeth. Joker sang a little louder as he hit the repeat on the song. 

“Aching for sympathy 

Hunger for heart ache won't ever leave 

Fall into somber sleep 

And I will descend and pray to dream 

Of all those darkened nights 

And all those candle lights 

Still taste you on my bites... Subside 

Living day by day swallow my pride and take 

Another glimpse into my life...” 

* 

He skipped back inside until he stood in front of Copperhead. He wasn't singing as loudly, his voice dropped to a whisper. 

“I start to fade from all my hate 

I start to fade from all my hate 

Putting it all behind 

Little bit here and there...” 

He smiled. “Now, I am betting your teeth would make a beautiful necklace, my dear.” Joker held up the pliers and snapped the teeth of the tool together with a giggle. 

* 

Half an hour later he was back on the road, though he frowned to himself. He had Copperhead's eyes on the seat next to him and her teeth in the pocket of his pants to craft a necklace for Harley, but killing Copperhead had been rather anticlimactic. He supposed he thought he would feel better instantly taking care of the person that started all of it, that had put him where he was now—miserable. But he didn't feel any better. He still felt lost and hollow; it wasn't that killing her hadn't been fun...it had, but something had been missing the whole time. 

Sharing the death dealing with Harley. 

He smiled softly imagining how she would have laughed while he had popped the eyeballs out. Otherwise, killing Copperhead had been sorely lacking. He had thought about trying to find Harley right way after the killing, taking the eyes and finding her, showing her, explaining...but he didn't feel that he had enough to give her...which brought him back to his original plan, back to trying to locate Dollmaker so that he could give Harley part of himself. He had to, needed to show her how deeply he needed her, loved her beyond all reason!! She was his madness...his anchor...and his reason... 

He snarled and slammed his fists on the steering wheel, then slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a stop causing him to jerk forward. He snarled again, hissing and spitting incoherently, shuddering with a mixture of pain and rage, then he suddenly slammed his head against the wheel with an agonizing groan. 

“Harley...FUCK!” 

He stayed like that, his forehead against the steering wheel, his eyes closed as he thought about her. His mind wandered, remembering a night before she had been hurt, when he came in to the bedroom find her naked on the bed, her hair spread around her like a halo. The lamp light was pale, caressing her skin, her creamy soft skin...which begged him to mark it, bite it, bruise it...take it. She had been smiling that incredible smile of hers...always her best feature he thought, though she had so many; each part of her stirred something in him, but that smile of hers, the beckoning look in her eyes...the twinkle in her eyes and her smile. That had sent shivers up and down his spine, heat rushing to his groin making him painfully hard for her. She had her arms over her head and she was running her tongue over her bottom lip, shifting her hips back and forth with just enough movement that her soft breasts had jiggled a little, her nipples pink and begging for his mouth. 

“Wanna rev up your Harley?” she had whispered, her blue eyes dancing through her thick black lashes. 

Joker smiled at the memory. He remembered crawling across the bed on his hands and knees, burying his mouth against her sex., his tongue licking up her sex with exquisite slowness, tasting her on his tongue, licking her off his lips. The softly little moans and groans that she made, her feet resting on his shoulders. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the memory of her body under his hands, the breathless groans she made or the sweet words she would whisper to him, her words of love, devotion mixed with cries of “Yes!” and “Harder puddin!” or “Pull my hair!” He chuckled remembering her becoming angry when he laughed at her changing commands and she would playfully smack him in the chest or even a good slap across his cheek that made him deliciously hotter for her. 

But it was the moments after sex that he enjoyed the most, her giggling and snuggling close to him. The smell of her hair under his nose, the way she would caress his chest or watching her sleep, her face relaxed. 

Joker sighed. He wanted her back. He NEEDED her back. He rolled his head to the side staring out the driver's side window, his eyes unfocused. After a couple of seconds he frowned, finally seeing what he was staring at...a poster in the window of a small local bookstore called “The Paper and Pen.” 

Joker narrowed his eyes studying the poster on the window. It announced that Doctor Bartholomew Wolper would be signing his book, “Stronger Love: How to Build a Stronger Foundation for your Long Term Relationship” tomorrow evening. 

Joker narrowed his eyes, staring at the poster before he whispered to himself. “Dr. Bartholomew Wolper, how to build a stronger foundation...” He giggled. “Maybe that's what I need! Some expert advice!” 

He fished Copperhead's phone out of his jacket pocket and checked to see if she had internet service...which she did! He grinned and started to check for the nearest hotels to the bookstore. He was guessing, but he figured the man would want to be close to the shop instead of driving halfway across town. It was a hunch, but his hunches were usually pretty good. Joker started to dial up the front desks of hotels asking if Dr. Bartholomew Wolper was staying with them until he hit pay dirt on the fourth call. 

“Yes sir,, Dr. Wolper is staying with us. Would you like me to direct your call to his room?” The young lady on the other end asked pleasantly, despite the late hour. 

“No, no, that's fine my dear. Just, could you tell me which room? I would like to send a gift up. We're old friends and I was just so pleased to hear he was in Gotham,” Joker said pleasantly. 

“Of course sir, just a moment.” Joker could heard the sound of computer keys clicking over the phone. “Dr. Wolper is staying in room 42B.” 

“Thank you so much dear! You have been just a perfect peach!” Joker cooed just before he hung up. 

* 

Batman walked into the bar behind Gordon and his stomach dropped. He had seen some violent things as Batman, but this...Gordon pulled deep on his cigar, the end of which burned a bright orange for a moment. Smoke curled around Gordon's face. “One of my men called this in, Nate Patton, good man. He suspects the Joker.” 

Batman frowned looking around. Gordon had indicated the officer standing over in the corner examining one of several victims in the room. Officer Patton was a man Batman had seen before, one of the few good cops, but also one that didn't like his presence. He made no secret of the fact that he resented Batman's “interference” in police matters. Patton glanced up just as Batman's gaze settled on him. Patton narrowed his eyes and looked away, clearly annoyed that Gordon had called him. Batman ignored the officer, looking at all the little details the bar had to offer. His gaze landed on a man whose mouth was a bloody mess, as well as the rest of him. He couldn't be sure from where he stood, but it looked as if all the man's teeth had been removed. 

Batman turned to Gordon. “Why does Officer Patton suspect the Joker? Did he leave a clue?” 

Gordon walked Batman over to the bar counter and pointed. There Batman saw the rows of teeth all arranged in a smile. Batman frowned. He turned back around to look at the people in the bar, scowling deeper still. He asked more to himself than to Gordon. “But why? These are all petty criminals...one or two might work for some of the families, but none of them would be considered a strike at a family...too low level.” 

“When has that madman ever needed a reason to kill, Batman?” Gordon asked taking a puff on his cigar. 

“There is always some sort of twisted reason behind the things he does. This just seems...reckless,” Batman said quietly. 

Gordon shrugged. “Well, when you figure it out, you can tell me.” 

* 

Dr. Bartholomew Wolper was a slightly overweight man with a large head of wild hair and what some people might call a “pornstache,” but he thought of it as a retro look, an homage to the 1970's, part of his charm. He yawned as he sat on the couch of the hotel room, his legs stretched out wearing only a bathroom robe and boxers and watching a porno on the pay-per-view service offered by the hotel. He was only partly watching the movie. The porno they were showing was one he had seen more than once and it wasn't really doing much for him. He was considering getting dressed and taking the car he had rented while in town and heading down to the seedier parts of Gotham to pay for some company when there was a knock at his door. Wolper frowned, glancing over to the clock that sat beside the bed. It was almost one in the morning. Wolper frowned, but he stood up and walked over to the door, not looking out the peephole to see who it was before he threw open the door. “What the hell...” 

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the barrel of the gun aimed at his face. His eyes traveled up the barrel to see the man holding it. Dr. Wolper wasn't from Gotham, but he knew enough about Gotham to recognize the man holding the gun. Joker, his white face speckled with blood; the gloves that he wore and the sleeves of his suit jacket were stiff with dried blood, but his teeth were bright white against his red lips. 

“Hello my darling Dr. Wolper. I thought you and I could go grab some coffee and talk.” 

Wolper opened his mouth, about to scream when Joker stepped in and punched Wolper in the face, knocking the man back off his feet and onto the floor. 

Joker sighed. “Tsk tsk, Doctor! Yelling and disturbing the other guests? How rude!” 

* 

Harley did a little twirl in the mirror on the red stilettos she had chosen. She wore a red sparkly sequin dress with a deep V in the front and back, a sexy little spaghetti strapped mini dress that hugged her figure. Her blonde hair was worn loose and soft and her make up was done with glitter, her lips a deep red and her eyes having a slight brush of glitter over her lids. Harley giggled. “Mistah J would love this dress.” 

Ivy glanced over at her friend. Since they were hitting a night club before their break-in Ivy wasn't really worried about her skin tone. She had seen lots of people at clubs, their skin covered in sparkles, glitter, pain, all sorts of colors. A woman with green skin wouldn't stand out that much among Gotham's party crowd and club-goers. She came over to stand behind Harley wrapping her arms around her friend's shoulders. Ivy was wearing her own stilettos and a sparkly sequin mini dress, except that hers was green with long sleeves. Her long red hair was also loose, her eyes smoky with green sparkles on her lids. Ivy grinned behind Harley. “We look good enough to eat, peanut.” 

Harley giggled then she sighed a little sadly repeating her statement from only moments before. “Mistah J would love this dress.” 

“Harley honey, we are going to go home after tonight. You really should just go and talk to him. I hate seeing you like this.” Ivy turned her friend around holding her by her shoulders. 

Harley stuck her bottom lip out. “I miss him so much, but I'm still angry.” 

Ivy titled her head. “Are you really?” 

Harley shrugged. “I don't know.” 

Ivy kissed her on the forehead. “Come on peanut. Let's go dancing, then do some breaking and entering. It'll be fun!” 

* 

The nightclub was called The Libertine and it was packed. Ivy had parked their rented car around the back of the club where a large parking lot was nearly full. As the two women walked around the building to the front of the club, they could see a line of people trying to get into the club; a line of people that wrapped around the corner and off into the distance. Harley frowned when she saw the line. “Hey Red, how are we going to get in?” Harley pursed her lips together. “That is one hell of a line and I don't have my mallet!” 

Ivy chuckled. “Come on honey, don't worry—it'll be easy. You know that. If I have to I just have to give a kiss or two.” Ivy smiled slowly and seductively. Harley giggled. “You are so bad Red.” 

The two women walked to the front of the club where a rather large Korean-descent man stood motioning some people through while motioning two young women away with a word of advice. “Go on...you two should try The Vanity on 12th. I think that would be more your speed ladies.” 

Ivy and Harley walked up to the bouncer, their arms around each others waists. Ivy grinned at the big man. “Well, hello there handsome.” 

The man blinked. Ivy smiled catching her tongue between her teeth giving him a very over the top up and down look. Harley was giggling holding on to Ivy to prevent herself from falling to the sidewalk laughing at Ivy's antics. Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder before leaning in to kiss Harley on the corner of the mouth. She glanced back at the bouncer, catching the side of her bottom lip with her teeth. 

Ivy smiled fluttering her lashes. “How about letting us in, big boy? Mmm?” 

The man grinned looking them both up and down. What he was thinking was plain on his face. Harley had to press her lips together to prevent herself from laughing out loud. He nodded. “Ah, yea, sure thing.” He pulled the cord that blocked the entrance away and waved the two women in. Ivy smiled walking in with Harley. She reached down and grabbed Harley's ass as they walked by the man causing Harley to jump a foot. 

“Thanks handsome,” Ivy cooed. 

Both of them turned and waved over their shoulders at the big man and blew him a kiss. The man blushed and waved back. As soon as they were past the door Ivy let Harley go with a snort. Harley burst out laughing. “Jeepers Ivy!! Grabbing my ass?” 

Ivy laughed. “Sorry Harley honey.” 

Harley chuckled. “It's fine. But wow, you didn't even have to use you plant voodoo on him!” 

Ivy smiled. “The trick is confidence, a short skirt and looking like you are two girls who are willing to invite a third member to your party.” 

Harley chuckled. “Men as so easy. You know, that's one of the many reasons I love my puddin. He ain't like regular guys.” 

Ivy laughed in agreement. “No, no he isn't.” 

The two of them headed over to the bar. The music was loud, the bass made the place feel as if the walls were vibrating as Queen's “Killer Queen” started playing. The lighting was all blues, purples and pinks making Harley think about being on the inside of a slushy. The dance floor was crowded with people—men, women and everyone in between, dancing to the music and grinding against one another. Occasionally something overhead would open up and water would sprinkle down on the dancers which would cause screams of excitement. Harley hopped up on one of the stools just as Ivy slid onto the one next to her. 

The bartender, a tall thin man in black slacks, a white shirt and black vest with long black hair and a black goatee (which made Harley think he looked like a vampire wannabe) came over. “So what can I get you two spectacular looking ladies?” 

Ivy smiled holding up two fingers. “Two sex on the beach please.” 

“You got it, hotness.” The bartender smiled and went to make their drinks. 

Ladytron's “Seventeen” started to play, which prompted Harley to start tapping her foot. “Hey Red, you wanna dance before drinks? This song makes me want to move.” Harley giggled. 

Ivy laughed. “Sure honey.” She turned to the bartender. “Can you save our drinks?” 

“Sure thing sexy. Anything for you.” The bartender winked at her and Ivy laughed. “Come on Harley.” She grabbed Harley's hand and the two of them went out on the dance floor. Harley started to dance swaying her hips back and forth, her arms over her head as she moved, slowly easing down to a crouch then back up again. Ivy was behind her, her body pressed up against Harley, rolling her hips against her friends and following her movements down to the floor then up again, her arms around Harley's torso. The two of them twisted and rolled together. Harley bent over and twirked a little which had Ivy laughing as she smacked her on the rear which had Harley laughing too. Harley turned to face Ivy wrapping her arms around Ivy's shoulders, the two of them grinding and weaving their hips together. 

It wasn't long before the two of them were drawing a lot of attention. Harley turned in a circle, stopping to face Ivy grinning when the music changed to Kerli's “Diamond Hard.” The two women were having so much fun dancing with each other that at first they didn't notice the two men zeroing in on them, slipping up behind each one of them. The music was loud and the lights had switched to a sort of technicolor disco ball, twisting and twirling, and the flashes between light and dark made it difficult to see. Harley had stepped back from Ivy swaying when she suddenly felt hands on her hips. She didn't see Ivy in front of her so she turned thinking it was Red, but stopped short when she saw a tall blonde man grinning at her. He leaned down, his lips against her ear giving her the creeps when they touched her skin. “Hey sexy. Why don't you dance with me?” 

Harley pushed him in the chest. “Get away creepo.” 

Harley turned looking around for Ivy; she didn't see her, but the place was really crowded. Harley decided to head back to the bar hoping that Ivy had headed that way too. She had just started to make her way off the dance floor when the man she had just told off grabbed her upper arm, tugging her around to face him and pulling her up against his chest. He wrapped another arm around her waist trying to hold her in place. “Ah come on sweetheart, don't be like that. Pretty girl like you...” He grinned down at her. 

Harley snarled. “You touch me one more time, I'm going to kick your balls to your brain, buster!” 

Harley pushed on him and yanked herself free. She stomped on the instep of one of his feet before she headed off the dance floor thinking she was going to be pissed if she saw Ivy having a drink without her. She had just gotten to the edge of the dance floor when she saw her friend at the corner of the dance floor shoving some short, muscle bound dark haired guy in the chest, yelling something in his face before she walked off. Harley giggled. Guess Red's having douche bag troubles too, Harley thought. Harley headed over to the bar and hopped up on a stool. Ivy spotted her a few seconds later; Harley waved at Ivy as she made her way over to sit down at the bar with Harley. 

“God, some men just don't know what the word 'no' means,” Ivy grumbled loudly just as the bartender set their drinks down. Ivy smiled at the bartender who blushed before hurrying off. 

Harley nodded. “I know what you mean. There was some guy trying to get handsie with me. I mean, I could take care of him myself, but my puddin...he would be lucky if Mistah J left him dead.” 

Ivy nodded sipping her drink. “I will say that, Joker wouldn't allow anyone to touch you.” 

Harley nodded downing her entire drink in one swallow. Ivy blinked in surprise as Harley giggled. “That's true. Puddin is the jealous type.” She smiled. “I love it when he kills some guy for me. It's so romantic.” 

Ivy chuckled with a shake of her head and sipped slowly on her drink. 

They sat there watching the dancers for a while longer. Harley frowned. It had been fun for the first hour or so, but now she was ready to go. Going dancing just wasn't as much fun without her puddin. And he liked to do those old dances...the waltz, tango...things like that..they were really romantic, holding each other close, his lips on her mouth or on her throat, her shoulder...the way his hands would glide down her back or over her hips. He would twist her around pulling her up against him and stare into her eyes. Harley shuddered. He was so...mesmerizing. He wasn't just funny or scary. That was what other people didn't understand...he was magnetic! Just...wow, she thought and when they made love...he was an attentive lover. He could be hard and fast, almost animalistic or he could be slow and deliciously torture her. She shivered just thinking about his mouth on her, the things he could do with his tongue! Harley sighed. Then there were those times where they just held each other or other times when he would make her laugh until she couldn't breathe, which would have him laughing. 

Harley tilted her head thinking about their dancing again. It was funny how many of the old dances she knew how to do because of him. How much he liked her dressing up, the two of them dressed to the nines. She sighed looking into the depths of her empty glass and blinked back tears. She wanted to go home. Ivy frowned looking over at her friend and put her hand on Harley's knee. 

“Hey, let's go get the orchids and head home.” 

Harley perked up. “Really?” 

“Yeah really.” Ivy smiled, reassuring her friend. 

Harley threw her arms around Ivy. “Thank you!” 

Ivy hugged her in returned, smiling. 

* 

The two women exited the dance club, they came around the corner heading toward the parking lot, but the alley was dark. They were walking and talking when two shadows separated from the rest to stand in front of them. “Where do you two sluts think you're going?” 

Harley's face twisted up in a grimace. “Oh, it's you.” 

It was the two men from the club who had been trying to dance with them. Ivy groaned. “Go home boys before something bad happens to you.” 

The two men looked at each other in confusion. The tall blonde brandished a knife. “Look here, you two are coming with us. Either one of you makes any sound me and my friend are going to cut you.” 

Harley sighed bending over to pull off the heels she was wearing, sliding them over her hands. “Well maybe a workout after those drinks is a good idea Red, whatcha think?” 

Ivy smiled. “I think you might be right Harley.” 

The blonde hissed. “That's enough bitch, you're going to come here and get what you deserve!” 

Harley laughed. “Oh I am, am I?” 

Harley giggled, she did a little jog forward and did two quick front flips coming to land in front of the surprised blonde man, but as she landed on her feet in front of him she used her momentum to slam the heels of her stilettos into the sides of his neck with all her strength. The man let out a gurgling scream. Harley grinned maniacally, ripping the heels out of his neck and did three quick back flips. The blonde dropped his knife, choking and gurgling as blood spurted from his neck on either side. He dropped to his knees grabbing at his neck. His partner let out what could only be described as a squeak. Harley giggled. “You're turn Red!” 

Ivy smiled and walked forward. The blonde's partner didn't move; his mouth was moving; but he didn't seem to know what to do as Ivy walked closer. “Oh now, you poor baby. There's so reason to be so scared. I just want a little kiss.” 

She stepped closer and caught his jaw with her fingertips and slid her fingers along the line of his jaw drawing his mouth to hers. She smiled, gazing into his eyes. The man seemed unable to move as Ivy leaned in and pressed her lips to his mouth. Harley watched while Ivy held her lips to the man's mouth. Black veins seemed to move under his skin from his mouth racing up quickly over his cheeks and up through the whites of his eyes until Ivy stepped away and the man fell, his whole body turning black. He started to thrash on the cement, jerking as bubbling back ooze leaked from his mouth until finally, he ceased all movement. Harley laughed. “That was so gross Red!!” 

Ivy laughed and shrugged. “So, ready peanut?” 

“Ready Red!!! Let's get your flowers and get back to Gotham!!” Harley giggled and skipped down the alley with Ivy walking calmly behind her. 

* 

Dr. Wolper woke to the sound of music playing. The music was playing, but someone with a good singing voice was singing along with the song. As Wolper's mind came into focus he realized he was tied to a chair, wearing only his bathrobe and boxers. He glanced around frantically and let out a loud “EEP!” when he saw the pair of bloody human eyeballs sitting on a table next to him, along with a pile of bloody teeth. 

“Putting it all behind 

Trying to cut it out of my mind 

Little bit here and there 

To pretend yet never compare 

With all those darkened nights 

And all those candle lights 

Still taste you on my bites... Subside 

Living day by day, swallow my pride and take 

Another glimpse into this life ...” 

“Oh, hey doc! You're awake!” Wolper turned to the voice and felt his blood go cold. The doctor's eyes widened when he saw a man, dancing and singing in place with a towel covering his entire head, a lone lamp in the room shedding light on his snow white skin. It was the Joker. Not a dream, but he had actually been abducted, Wolper realized in despair. The pale man was wearing only a pair of purple pin-striped slacks showing off a slim, but tone muscled torso, the sort of whip-thin muscles a gymnast or an acrobat would have, and covered in a wide assortment of scars. Joker was not wearing socks or shoes, which for some reason Wolper found that much more frightening, how causal he was being rather than if the clown had been in his usual attire. Joker was toweling his green hair dry as he smiled at Dr. Wolper. “Sorry doc, needed to take a shower. I was a little messy and it's really not good manners to greet a guest covered in blood. Well...until later.” Joker chuckled. Wolper went paler. 

Joker walked over and picked up a dark ruby red dress shirt that was lying across the back of a chair. As Wolper looked around, he realized that he seemed to be in a circus-themed bedroom. There was just so much going on in the room that it was too much for Wolper to take in. Joker picked up the shirt, sliding his arms through the sleeves and began to button the shirt up, his damp green hair falling across his forehead and curling. “Now doc. I have a couple of things I was hoping you could help me with. I'm in a pickle.” 

Wolper stuttered. “Mmaammee? But I'm not that sort of doctor. I...I'm a...relationship doctor. I write self-help books!” 

Joker nodded and offered, “Yes, yes I know. Though I have to tell you. I'm already a little disappointed. I mean, how can you talk about relationships when you aren't even married? Watching porn? Really?” Joker shook his head, picking up a black and white polkadot tie, slipped it around his neck and under the collar as he started to tie it with nimble fingers while pacing the room. “So, here is my question. I was being protective of my girl. She had gotten hurt not too long ago and well...I'm not used to worrying about someone else. You see, I'm a lone wolf, a loner, a misanthrope, an actor! A comedian! A man of the arts...a man without qualities. Well, I'm an agent of chaos...I just do things without worrying about consequences! BUT I've got a girlfriend now. And well, she got hurt and I sort of...heh, panicked. I started leaving her out of jobs because...well, I'll be honest with you doc...I don't want to lose her. I came really close and I suddenly realized I couldn't live without her. So how do I tell her that? How do I get her to come back?” 

Wolper listened in shock. “What? You have a girlfriend?” 

Joker chuckled. “Yes, I do doc. A beautiful sex kitten with a smile you wouldn't believe, an adorable little laugh, and to watch her kill someone...it's so fucking sexy!” Joker smiled swooning for a bit before he seemed to recover. “So, anyway, she's mad at me because I wasn't including her, but...I'm not the sort of guy that shares my feelings so...I didn't tell her why I didn't want her to go on jobs with me. So she got really angry and left. Now I need her back.” 

Wolper stuttered. “Ah...s-say you're sorry?” 

Joker was tucking in his shirt and reaching for a yellow vest with intricately stitched needlework all over the vest. He stopped, holding the vest in one hand. “You don't understand. I have to show her...I can't just tell her!! I can't!! I...I have to...” Joker felt that creeping crawling feeling over his skin...his control slipping. He started to laugh. “I need her!! You don't understand...I need her to know she is part of me. She is under my skin, doc. I can't live without her.” He laughed so hard then that tears started to fall down his cheeks. “You just don't get it!! No one understands...I should have guessed...no one.” 

Wolper started to whimper. “Look...ah...I mean....you...you could read my book?” 

Joker had slipped on his vest and stopped in the motion of buttoning up the vest. He went very still and slowly looked up. “Are you trying to sell me your book?” Wolper yelped. “No, no! No, not...I mean...well...I...there might be something helpful in my book. I mean, I have made the best seller list.” 

Joker sighed flopping down in the chair where his shirt had been hanging only moment ago. “I should have known this was a bad idea. You know darling, if your book was all that good, why aren't you at one of the bigger book stores? I really should have thought of that...” 

Joker stood up and walked over to the bedside table. Wolper watched him with wide eyes. “Look Mr. Joker sir! I...I'm a hack...I...I have a ghost co-writer that helps me with the books!! I'm just the face. So, you know...there is really no reason to kill me!! It would be a waste of your time. An artist like you...I-I'm just a n-nobody!” 

Joker turned, now holding his knife. “See this bowie knife doc? It is a seven and a half inch bowie knife with a black TiNi coating—that's why the blade is black. Harley got this for me as a birthday present, even though I have no idea when my birthday is. That's my girl for ya...she just picks a random day every so often and decides its my birthday and gives me a present with a cake, balloons, the works. It's always a surprise.” Joker smiled softly, caressing the blade. “She gave me this a few months ago on one of my birthdays.” 

Joker stepped closer continuing to caress the blade. “That's just one of the many reasons I need her back. I love her for it, and hate her for it. Isn't that just a kick in the head?” He giggled to himself. 

Wolper stared. “No no no no no, NO!!” 

Joker smiled. “Look at it this way doc, your book will probably be on the best seller list after they find your body.” 

With a smooth, quick movement, Joker extended his arm, the sharp blade of the bowie knife slicing easily through Wolper's throat. The man gurgled, blood spilling out of his neck and mouth. Joker stood and passionlessly watched the man bleed to death, then threw himself backwards onto the bed with a pitiful sigh. He was just thinking that maybe he could blow up a series of buildings that spelled out Harley's name...maybe some apartment buildings...he thought, when there was a knock at the bedroom door. “Boss?” 

Joker sat up. “Frost?” 

Frost eased the door open. He looked around, grimaced when he saw the strange man tried up in a chair in only his robe and boxers, his throat slit open. Frost decided he didn't want to know. When he saw Joker he was a little disappointed. He didn't really want to tell him where Dollmaker was, but... 

“I found Dollmaker's location sir.” 

Joker dropped the knife, raced over and grabbed Frost by the front of his shirt having moved so quickly that Frost was caught off guard when Joker yanked him forward. 

“Where?” Joker hissed. 

“He...He's in Arkham boss,” Frost said softly. 

Joker tilted his head. “Arkham?” 

Frost nodded. “Yes sir.” 

Joker stepped back letting him go. “Arkham eh? Well...” He giggled. “I guess it's to Arkham I go...my home away from home!”


End file.
